


How Gavin Reed Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Android Cock

by HomunculusTrashParty



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Gavin Reed, Canon-Typical Gavin Assholery, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Corruption, Dominant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Enemies to Lovers, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed: Android Whoremonger, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Smut Tags Are In The Chapter Summaries, Top Connor, submissive gavin reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 122,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomunculusTrashParty/pseuds/HomunculusTrashParty
Summary: Gavin Reed hates androids. He hates Anderson for not letting him destroy the RK800 when he had a chance. He hates Fowler for taking on the case.But most of all, he hates himself, because that ambulating pile of scrap metal has gotten under his skin,  and he’s never needed anyone—anything—as much as he does right now.And when an android is murdered at the Eden Club and Connor insists on joining him for the case, it will test Gavin’s composure, his ego, and his worldview.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, HR400 "Traci" Android(s)/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed
Comments: 306
Kudos: 382





	1. The Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to ViolentMedic and CreatureXIII for inspiring me with your Convin works. You guys are the cause of these shenanigans! And thank you Medic for letting me bounce ideas off of you for almost a year XD This has been a WIP since June 2019 and is about 80% completed (hence the ? for number of chapters), but I decided to start posting it anyway. I hope you enjoy it!

He knew that fucking thing was trouble from the first time he laid eyes on it.

Yeah, he’d heard from the men at the scene that it’d somehow managed to save the little girl the deviant was using as a bargaining chip, and yeah, he’d glanced over the email from CyberLife announcing their partnership with the DPD in solving the deviancy case, and yeah, he’d been there at the interrogation—but it was just fucking _bullshit_.

Now, it had made sense when they made androids for boring household shit, or to do unsafe labor jobs, or for sickos to bang at seedy brothels. Those were all use cases Gavin Reed could understand.

But when that pile of ambulating scrap metal had requested an audience with the deviant, _well..._

And of course, Anderson had let him do it, and of course, Anderson was still the boss, _somehow_ , despite reeking of booze and midlife crisis and mediocrity, and thus, Gavin had been forced to watch a fucking _computer_ do his job. 

Fuck CyberLife, fuck Hank Anderson and fuck that android. And then, when Gavin had tried to teach it some respect, Anderson had pulled a gun on him. Hank was literally willing to threaten a coworker just for trying to remind a machine what it was supposed to fucking do, which was obey. Hell, the android had even said as much to the deviant during the interrogation.

_Whatever. Anderson’s career has been in the toilet for years now. He probably thinks he’s got nothing to lose anyway._

All in all, it was a fantastically shitty day, except for the confession. But he could have gotten one too. Humans weren’t fucking obsolete, no matter what Elijah Kamski and his squad of fucking losers believed.

It was time for a drink and some ass.

Gavin Reed angrily got out of the autonomous taxi he’d been stewing in and slammed the door shut, stopping to light a cigarette outside. Like an idiot, he’d forgotten his fucking vape in his desk due to all the bullshit he’d had to put up with at work. So now, instead of blueberries, he was going to smell and taste like smoke. Fantastic. It was cold, but he needed both a boost of energy and something to calm his nerves. He’d almost ended up in a fight at work and he’d be damned if he had to give up his badge before Anderson was fired or offed himself. And to be honest, even though it had been completely fucking justified, he wasn’t happy that he had even one fight on his record. 

Sucking in the cigarette greedily, he watched a man and a male android exit the bar and realized, suddenly, that they were _together._ Oh, no. _Fuck_ that. Just because it was a gay bar didn't mean that plastic fuckers were welcome.

"Hey, you two!" Gavin called out.

The man and his android turned. "The fuck do you want?" the man replied, with a snide tone of voice that made Gavin clench his fists.

"That plastic with you?" Gavin demanded, stepping forward. "Didn't know they let androids in now. What's wrong? Real cock not good enough anymore?"

The android glanced at the man, waiting for an order. The man stepped forward. "Listen, buddy, I don't know what your problem is tonight, but what I do with my android is none of your goddamn business. Now leave us the fuck alone. Go get a drink and cool off." He reached over and took the android's arm (!) and they walked off.

Gavin cursed loudly, tossed his cigarette on the ground, and walked into the bar. 

They were playing the same club drone as always, bass and oontz-oontz-oontz with nothing else to break up the monotony, but Gavin didn’t come to the Deep End for the music. He came for the cheap, potent drinks and the always-available twinks looking for a good time with a handsome stranger. Most were far younger than him, but if they were allowed into the bar, they were safe—and almost always DTF.

Gavin raised a hand and the cute bartender gave him a saucy wink, arriving with his standby double shot of tequila. Gavin gave him a silent but not unpleasant nod and threw back the shot. He scanned the room. No soft, effeminate blonds here tonight, apparently, but he did see a promising brunet wallflower towards the back. Leaving his shot glass on the bar on top of a wad of dollar bills, he went over to meet him. “Hey.”

The brunet, who’d looked decent from across the room, was actually better than Gavin had expected: tall, lean, a little twinky, with chestnut brown hair and captivating blue eyes. The hair was a little longer than he was in the mood for, but the body was on point, and the shyness, well. He’d see how shy Mr. Wallflower would be on his cock that night.

“Hello,” Wallflower replied, absently.

Playing coy, perhaps? “You in here looking for a good time tonight, gorgeous?” Gavin asked, turning on the charm. “Buy you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” Wallflower said nervously. 

Gavin raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

“Are… are you single?” Wallflower asked, equally nervously, with a bit of a stilted affect. This dude was a little weird, come to think of it. But hey, maybe he just hadn’t gotten out in a long time. And he was a little delicate, which Gavin liked. 

“Hell yeah. I don’t have time for clingy bullshit. You sure you don’t want a drink? I’m getting another one.” Gavin felt a little buzzed already, but fuck it. Work had sucked. He raised a hand and a server—an actual human—came by and took his order for another doubleshot. He received it within a minute and knocked it back. 

Wallflower watched him slam the glass down on the table nearby and looked slightly alarmed. “I… I’m sure,” he stalled, clearly trying to think of an excuse but not finding one.

“Why the fuck are you in a bar if you don’t drink?” Gavin snorted, suddenly feeling the effects of the first double. “Come on. Let me treat you. That’s how it’s done, right? I buy something for a pretty boy and he comes home with me?” he teased, trying to lighten up a little. 

The man blushed, though it was barely visible in the dimly lit bar. He turned his head to the side coquettishly—

—and then Gavin saw the blue LED on his temple.

“What the fuck?” Gavin blurted out, feeling disgust hit him in the gut, and Wallflower Bot suddenly looked embarrassed, its eyes scanning the room for an exit. Oh, no. Not this time.

Gavin shoved the android into the nearest wall, glaring at him. “Plastic fucks like you aren’t welcome in this bar,” he growled.

Wallflower Bot looked at him with shock and fear in its eyes, and then Gavin felt himself get knocked on his ass as the high table fell over, almost hitting him. He felt a sharp pain in his hand and realized he’d pricked it on his shot glass, which had fallen off the table and broken in the dark. _Fuck._

Fuming, Gavin got to his feet, but the android was gone. He looked down at his hands, and saw that one had a trickle of blood down the palm from the broken glass. _God fucking damn it_ —now he had to get to the bathroom and stop the bleeding and miss out on potential _non-plastic_ twinks he could meet and fuck.

In the bathroom, he rinsed his hand, pleased to see that there were at least no shards of glass stuck in it, and caught the eye of an equally handsome young man who looked similar to Wallflower Bot in terms of body type, but with shorter curls, brown eyes, and darker skin.

Bathroom Guy seemed to be put off by Gavin’s scrutiny until he said, “I’m just looking to make sure you don’t have a fucking LED. Can’t believe they let androids in here now. Almost picked up one by accident. Can’t be too careful.”

The man’s face relaxed. “Right? I can’t tell who’s real or plastic anymore.” He held out his hand. “Steve.”

“Gavin.” They shook hands with Gavin’s non-injured one and Gavin wrapped a paper towel around the injured hand. He’d take better care of it when he got home. “If it were up to me, they’d be outlawed and pieced out and sold for scrap.”

“They can be useful,” Steve mused, “but I don’t want to fuck one. I’m not that desperate,” he snorted, and Gavin joined in. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Fuck yeah.” Gavin smirked, and they each got a roadie and headed back to his house.

Steve, as it turned out, was good in bed, and after he’d gone Gavin lay there, boneless and satisfied, and felt his cock stir slightly at the memory of that tight ass squeezing around him. He hadn’t wanted it as rough as Gavin wanted to give, but it was the price he was willing to pay to fuck a human. Either way, the itch was scratched, the agitation over work having dissipated in the wake of feel-good hormones and alcohol. He could return to work with a greater hold on his temper.

It was an uneventful day at the DPD. Gavin had finished his search in the archives and had done about as much as he possibly could, so he was taking a break with Tina, giving her a hard time about the boyfriend she complained about pretty much nonstop. She was too pretty for that guy, Gavin knew, despite having never seen photos of him because he was the absolute last human being on Earth not to use social media and had no criminal record, so he couldn’t even look him up there. 

They were in the middle of a fairly lackluster conversation when Gavin saw a familiar presence appear. It was the android from the interrogation. What the fuck was it doing in here?

“Fuck, look at that. Our friend the plastic detective is back in town! Congratulations on last night, very impressive!” The sarcasm was thick in his tone, as he gave the thing his least sincere applause. Tina chuckled. 

The android’s face looked blank, then it said politely, “Hello. My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” It then went back to standing still like an idiot.

Gavin gave it a smug smirk and a raised eyebrow, rising from where he’d been leaning over the table with Tina and his coffee. He walked up to Connor, sizing him up with a glance meant to intimidate. Yeah, it couldn’t feel fear, but he could at least try. “Never seen an android like you before. What model are you?”

“RK800,” it announced, enunciating each syllable as though it was teaching a kindergarten class. “I’m a prototype,” it added, a hint of simulated pride in its voice. 

“A _prototype,”_ Gavin echoed patronizingly. He turned to Tina and gestured at Connor. “Android detective.” He turned back to face it. “So machines are gonna replace us all, is that it?” He could feel the anger from yesterday boiling up under his skin again, sharpening his tone and tightening the muscles in his arms.

Then he had an idea. _This’ll teach the_ prototype _who’s boss._ “Hey. Bring me a coffee, dipshit.” When Connor stood there like a fucking statue and blinked at him, Gavin started to lose his temper. “Get a move on! I gave you an order.”

It hesitated a few seconds longer before replying, “I’m sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson.” It was almost like it was mocking him.

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Gavin turned to Tina again, as if to say, _Get a load of this guy,_ before reeling back and punching the android in its android guts. It swayed slightly, then lost its balance and dropped to the floor on one knee, clutching itself where Gavin had hit it. It kept its gaze on the floor, head bowed, eyes downcast. _Good._

“If Hank hadn’t got in the way yesterday, I would have _fucked you up_ for disobeying a human,” Gavin declared, talking down at it, glancing over the CyberLife insignia on the back of its jacket. Android. Made in Detroit. _Made,_ not born. Just a fucking _thing._ A fucking _machine._ No matter how cleverly it could interrogate, how many sentiment analysis programs or whatever the fuck else it had, it was just a fucking walking computer.

And Gavin Reed would see Hell freeze over before he lost his job to a fucking computer.

He crouched down to look it in the eye, as it began to recover. “Stay outta my way. Cause next time… you won’t get off so easy.”

Gavin rose, and smacked the android in its LED and stalked off, Tina following him. He assumed it would rise to its feet and go back to work, but he’d be perfectly happy if it decided to go light itself on fire.

Well. Fortunately, he wasn’t Hank Anderson, because the thought of dealing with that thing day in and day out would be enough to make him go ballistic.

“Wow, Gav, you must really hate that thing,” Tina mused.

Still agitated, he turned to her. “If you ask me, that _thing_ has it out for all of us. You didn’t see the way it behaved in the interrogation. Trust me. You don’t want anything to do with it.”

Tina looked amused, like she wasn’t taking him seriously, but she said nothing else on the subject of RoboCop and they soon parted.

Gavin’s hand hurt, and once he was out of sight of anyone else, he rubbed his knuckles. Fuck, what was that thing made out of, titanium? Yeah, the skin or whatever was soft, but the other parts? Hard as a rock.

Maybe he should take it upon himself to learn more about this “prototype.” However, it had to wait until he was done for the day. There was no way he could slack off at work now—no telling when Fowler would decide to replace his ass with a machine. Clearly it was only a matter of time.

Gavin logged out of his workstation and sighed, flipping off the monitor with the middle finger of his right hand and grabbing his jacket. He’d gotten closer to figuring out the Red Ice ring murder, and he’d suffered through a bunch of paperwork, because while yeah, they _could_ automate that, Gavin wanted to prove that no one should _have to_ because humans were still perfectly capable of doing what needed to be done without android help. That would have to be enough for now. It pissed him off to no end that he suddenly was working harder than he had in months, for the sole purpose of keeping the AI singularity at bay. Infuriating.

Gavin got in his car and ordered food delivery with his phone using voice commands, then went home.

His house was not nice, by any stretch. It was a bachelor pad, to put it politely, and he only owned it because it had been cheap. Two bedrooms, one for him, one for his hobby equipment, and a living room perfect for watching movies and getting blowjobs on the couch. Gavin didn’t need, or want, anything else.

His Chinese food arrived, and he grabbed a fork from the kitchen and dug into it while it was still in the carton, sitting down on the couch. He clicked through every channel, then got bored and put on music instead, grabbing his laptop and opening it up, setting down the nearly empty carton of noodles on the coffee table.

Opening a web browser, he typed in “RK800” and got zero results. Not a one. Man, these government fucks didn’t mess around, did they?

Then Gavin logged into the DPD intranet and repeated his search query there. Several hits popped up—an announcement from Fowler to the department, a forwarded email from CyberLife, and then, what he was looking for: the specs for the RK800 and its user manual. If he was gonna beat this damn thing, he needed a strategy.

Gavin clicked on the specs file and sighed in frustration. This shit was barely even in English and since when was he so tech-illiterate? That was gonna have to change. Scrolling past all the technobabble, he was at least able to glean a few things. One was that Connor would never run out of batteries, apparently, because its thirium power source wouldn’t go dead for over a hundred years. Jesus Christ. They were _fucked_ if these things ever went rogue, and by if, Gavin thought, he meant when.

The second was its analysis and preconstruction suites. Apparently, it analyzed evidence in real time by… putting it in its mouth. Gavin grimaced. Holy fuck. Was Anderson having to follow this goddamn thing around watching it lick blood and eat dead shit? Maybe he should back off of Hank for a day or two. He likely had it rough at the moment. The mental image alone… nope, not going there.

The preconstruction programs allowed Connor to piece together the events at a crime scene. Impressive, but humans could do that too, goddamn it. And a robot wouldn’t be able to rely on human intuition and sudden epiphanies. Plus, wouldn’t that also just make it that much easier for Connor or other androids like it to become untouchable serial killers? Fuck, as if the DPD didn’t have enough going on already. Why the fuck did Fowler okay this? Didn’t he realize how much this could go tits up at any time?

The rest was a bunch of stuff about AI engines and memory and processing, as well as a technical blueprint of Connor’s anatomy and insides. It didn’t seem as important, so Gavin closed the file, but not before downloading a copy of it to his laptop. He opened the user guide. 

_Welcome to the RK800,_ it said. _The most advanced model ever built, to protect humanity and assist in ending the deviancy threat once and for all. To be used only by city, state, and federal law enforcement, and the Department of Defense._

Oh. That was why it hadn’t come up on Google. This shit was classified, or at least privileged information. Probably for the best. The public had a habit of panicking when it found out about shit like this.

_To begin setup, register a name and the agency to which it is assigned._

Who named Connor? The feds? CyberLife? Fowler? Gavin read on.

_The RK800 must be synced to both the CyberLife cloud and your agency’s internal data warehouse. If one does not exist, CyberLife will provide one._

That wasn’t sketchy at _all._ Who the fuck really owned this thing, anyway? Why the hell did CyberLife need access to privileged DPD data? And what the _fuck_ would they do if it got hacked, or if it _deviated?_ They did realize _it_ could deviate too, right? Gavin felt chills down his spine. He’d have a long talk with Fowler about this.

He was almost too sickened and angry to read further, but he pressed on.

_The RK800 has several suites designed to aid in any investigation,_ it continued.

_Interrogation suite: with access to over one million research studies of human psychology, the RK800 has the ability to adapt to the unique personality of any and every criminal._

_Real-time forensics analysis: the RK800’s oral cavity contains a sophisticated and proprietary stock of reagents and is able to index android signature data through Blue Blood analysis._

_Night vision: the RK800 is able to process both infrared and ultraviolet light, as well as every color that can be seen by humans, through state-of-the-art computer vision technology._

What the fuck?

_Re- and pre-construction suite: the RK800 can visualize and re-create criminal actions to aid in your investigation._

_Superior physical capabilities: the RK800 can run faster than humans and has access to hand-to-hand combat skills, such as martial arts and krav maga, as well as training in the use of military weapons. (Federal law prohibits androids from carrying firearms. Use of firearms should be considered only as a last resort to protect human life.)_

_The choice is clear: the RK800 can apprehend any criminal or solve any crime, including cold cases, or your money back. Guaranteed._

Gavin downloaded the manual, then shut his laptop and got up, pulling a beer out of the fridge, twisting off the cap and downing all of it in one go.

Fuck. This. Shit.

He should have shot that motherfucker when he had the chance.


	2. Gavin Reed: Pick Up Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin heads to another bar for a hookup. 
> 
> Smut tags: top Gavin Reed, anal sex, masturbation, virginity, dirty talk.
> 
> Warning for mild angst, because Gavin is a dick.

“I’m telling you, this thing is bad news,” Gavin exclaimed.

He was in Fowler’s office, earlier than either of them wanted to be there that day, attempting to make his case. Did Fowler really not see the risks here?

“I heard you the first fifteen goddamn times,” Fowler barked. “And so I say to you again: it’s happening whether you like it or not. I don’t have to explain my decisions to you, but seeing as you’re here for the right reasons and not just to cause trouble, I will. The city and CyberLife think the best approach to solving the deviancy cases is to use the RK800. It’s been specially trained, it knows how to find deviants better than we do. It’s a robotic K-9 unit, Gavin. Just think of it like that.”

“Oh yeah? So what happens when it catches android rabies, huh? And why the fuck does CyberLife need access to our data?”

“Only the data used to solve deviancy cases. It’s not gonna go rooting around in the archives. It comes here, it works with Hank, and then it goes home to the CyberLife tower until morning. Why do you care so much? Thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with it.” Fowler leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, studying him. “It’s just a computer, Gavin. No different from your phone or laptop. It’s designed for us to use for this task, that’s it.”

“And you read the specs and the ops manuals? You know what that thing is capable of? And you still want us to let it loose and fuck up my cases? That thing _eats evidence,”_ Gavin exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. He pointed at the bullpen, where Connor could be seen waiting awkwardly at Anderson’s desk.

“Jesus Christ, Reed, it doesn’t _eat evidence,_ it’s a fucking forensic analyst. And don’t tell me how to do my job. Of course I read the goddamn manuals. And they’re not your cases, they’re Hank’s. There’s a reason I assigned it to work with Hank and not you.”

_Why, so you could finally get him to quit the force? Or as some well-deserved punishment for stinking up the place with mediocrity?_

“And what do we do if it gets hacked? Or if _it_ deviates, too?” Gavin’s eyes flashed with indignation.

“It won’t. It’s not a maid or a nanny or a sexbot. Forget about it and go about your day. You don’t have to like it. But if you break it, you will replace it, period. If I see you tampering with that thing, you’ll be suspended, no questions asked. Have I made myself clear?”

Gavin fumed.

_“Have I made myself clear?”_ Fowler repeated angrily.

“Yes,” Gavin replied begrudgingly.

“Good. Now get out of my office.”

Gavin gave a sarcastic salute and left.

Jesus Christ, this was un-fucking- _believable._ He’d wanted to show the RK800 a piece of his mind, but there were cameras, and he wasn’t about to toss out all his hard work. At least Hank would bitch about it, he knew, and hopefully Fowler would change his mind when more than one person spoke up about this bullshit.

After a few hours in the archives and a few more following up with witnesses, Gavin was ready to go out. The shit at work with the RK800 was stressing him out in a way that only a hard fuck with some pretty twink could calm.

But after his experience with accidentally picking up Wallflower Bot, Gavin wasn’t sure he wanted to risk the Deep End again. There was some new 1920s-themed speakeasy, he’d try there. He was grateful to live in a city that had more than one gay bar. And he’d try them all, until he found one that didn’t allow plastics.

He got off the bus and walked in like he owned the place. It was a bit kitschy, but nice, and he had to give them credit for the décor, which looked pretty authentic. Old-timey bar glasses, real wood, antique black and white photographs or reprints.

Gavin walked up to the bar and decided to get a cocktail this time—when in Rome, after all. The bartender gave him an Old Fashioned and he sipped it, scanning the room. It’d be harder to find an anonymous fuck here, but he’d manage. There were plenty of men into his handsome, rugged bad-boy vibe. 

And there he was—blond, tall, twinky and dressed well, in a button-down and dark wash jeans. Jackpot.

“Hey,” Gavin greeted, sidling up to him. Hopefully he was receptive. Most others in this bar seemed to be coupled or with friends.

The blond looked at him and smiled. Gavin had to hand it to him—those brown eyes sparkled, and the cheekbones were like a sculpture. Gavin took him in, looking him up and down: broad shoulders, lean waist, long legs, hair cut short and parted to one side. So sexy.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” Gavin began, taking a sip of his Old Fashioned.

The blond hesitated. “Adam,” he said slowly. Must already be a bit buzzed, or stoned, maybe, though Gavin couldn’t smell weed on him. Maybe he vaped it. That was all right. Ever since the state of Michigan legalized, he’d had some fun times slow-fucking some blissed-out stoners. He wanted it rough, however, and hopefully Adam was willing to get dicked down hard.

“Gavin. How you doing tonight? Buy you a drink?” He favored Adam with his most winning smile. 

Adam smiled shyly. “No, thanks. I have one.” He gestured to what looked to be an untouched and sadly watered-down glass of whiskey. What was with the teetotalers lately? What a waste of booze. “But we can keep talking. I… I like your jacket. It looks nice.”

Gavin grinned. “You should watch me take it off. That’s way more fun.”

Adam blushed.

“Why are you so shy?” Gavin teased, nudging Adam gently with his elbow. “You’re easily the best looking guy in this bar.”

“I haven’t been out in a while. I’m, um, new to this city.” He nervously ran a hand through his hair. Oh, Gavin liked this one. “Thank you for the compliment. You’re handsome too.”

“Yeah? You like bad boys?” Gavin winked.

“I like humans,” Adam replied, seeming to open up a little.

“Fuck, man, me too. I almost picked up a plastic at the Deep End. Can you believe they let androids in now?” Gavin finished his drink. 

“They do?” Adam’s eyes lit up.

“Hey. You’re better than that. You don’t have to screw plastics. You can have me instead,” Gavin said with a smirk. He reached out and touched Adam’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get outta here. Let me show you a good time, sweetheart. You won’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Adam smiled and let Gavin guide him, where he hailed a taxi and they set off.

Gavin wasted no time in making a move on Adam in the taxi; as soon as they were inside, he closed the distance between them and kissed him, their hands all over each other, lit only by street lamps and city lights. Adam tasted like mint, and not much else; he clearly hadn’t even tried the whiskey. He probably only ordered it to fend off some of the attention he was getting. He really was gorgeous. Gavin was half hard just from making out with him. Fuck, it felt so good to get handsy in a car like a teenager again. And Adam was letting him touch all over—skin so smooth, and his slightly gravelly voice giving way to such soft delicate moans as Gavin sucked on his collarbone. 

They stumbled into Gavin’s bedroom, making out, as Gavin pulled back to take off his shirt, helping Adam shrug off his as they fumbled in the dark. “Fuck, you’re so good,” he grunted.

Adam moaned softly, reaching forward to brush Gavin’s nipples with his fingertips. Gavin moaned and pushed Adam down onto his bed. “Ooh, I like you. So dirty and willing. Let’s get those jeans off, sweetheart. I wanna make you say my name.” 

“Yes,” Adam breathed, and Gavin got busy undoing his belt, pulling the jeans off those slender hips, palming Adam’s half-hard cock as he went. He’d have to give it a little more attention. Gavin smirked. That was fine with him.

He dragged down Adam’s boxer briefs and took the head of his cock in his mouth, tongue teasing the crown before he descended, taking the whole thing deep. Adam gasped and bucked his hips. It was odd—he didn’t taste like much. Maybe he’d showered very, very recently. Dirty boy, so ready for a good fuck. It was like he’d been waiting for Gavin to give him his cock all night. He reached down and gripped himself through his pants, moaning around the smooth, velvety, rock-hard flesh in his mouth.

When he had his conquest moaning like a whore, Gavin pulled off of him and undid his jeans, dropping them to the floor. “Hands and knees on the bed, ass in the air. Did you get yourself ready earlier? I bet you did. Waiting for a bad boy like me.” Gavin dug around in his dresser for a condom and lube, taking in the sight of that gorgeous twink climbing up onto his hands and knees.

Adam looked over at Gavin. A breathy sigh came from his lips in the dark. “Yes,” he said breathlessly, sounding a little unsure; was he a virgin? Gavin felt heat cascade from his face all the way down to his cock, which throbbed at the mere thought that it was he who would deflower this pretty thing. He could see Adam’s back bowed, on his hands and knees, as he reached down between his legs to stroke himself. Gavin could barely see the outline of his cock in the dark, but from what he could see and taste, it was a good one—as pretty as the rest of him. 

“Good. I’m gonna make you scream.” Gavin got up on the bed, giving himself a few quick, hard strokes, then rolled on the condom, adding some lube for good measure, and lined himself up. He brushed the head of his cock against Adam’s hole and felt him shudder. “Yeah? You like that? You want my cock?”

“Please,” Adam said softly, bowing his head, and Gavin reached out to grab his hips as he slowly sank in.

_Fuck,_ he was tight. Maybe he was a virgin after all. Oh, Gavin was gonna like this.

Adam moaned sharply and backed up into him, nice and hard, just the way he wanted it. _Oh, yes._ Well, if he was a virgin, he was certainly an eager one.

Fuck it.

“You okay if I go a little rough, baby? I need it,” Gavin groaned. “Had a hard day at work and you’re so tight.”

“Please, Gavin,” Adam moaned. “Do it however you want.” He backed up his hips again, and Gavin set a fast, rough pace, pounding into him and hearing their flesh slap together, their soft grunts of pleasure filling the room.

“How’s that feel? You like that, don’t you? A nice, rough fuck?” Gavin could feel himself breaking a sweat, muscles tight as he gripped Adam’s slender hips. Fuck, it was good, so good, hard and deep and exactly what he needed. He wasn’t gonna last long, but that was all right; with how much Adam was moaning, he wouldn’t either. “Touch yourself for me, sweetheart,” he called out, as he rutted into him. _“Fuck.”_

The sound of his moan increased sharply—he had to be gripping himself, jerking hard and fast. Gavin could feel the motion reverberating through Adam’s body, and he let himself get rougher, lose control and ride his ass like it was the last fuck he’d ever have. “You gonna cum for me? I’m close,” he groaned.

“Yes,” Adam gasped. “Gavin, I’m—” His whole body shuddered, and his asshole clenched as he came, so good and tight and Gavin followed right after, his balls tightening as he pumped his release into the condom. They were both panting as Gavin pulled out, Adam rolling onto his back onto the bed. 

Gavin got off the bed and went to switch on the light and head to the bathroom to clean up. He strutted back in, proudly naked, about to get back on the bed for round two. Smirking, he let his gaze travel up and down Adam’s body, appreciating the view of his blissed-out smile, messy hair, broad shoulders, long legs, softening cock, and his hand resting on his stomach.

And then Gavin looked closer, and saw that that hand was pale, white and gray, and made entirely of plastic; and that the artificial skin had vanished up to Adam’s wrist to match the splotch on his stomach that was also white and gray.

He felt a wave of nausea hit him in the gut. That gorgeous twink, that incredible fuck—

—had been an _android_ all along. 

God. Damn. It.

It took all of Gavin’s strength not to punch a fucking hole in his bedroom door. How had this happened? How had he _let_ this happen? How had he not seen the signs? The absence of taste, the untouched drink—how fucking stupid could he have been to not notice?

“You’re...” Gavin pointed at the hand. “You’re an android. You’re a fucking _android.”_

Adam looked surprised. “Is… is that a problem? I—”

“Of course it’s a problem!” Gavin shouted. “You thought that wasn’t something I’d want to know about? Like, what the fuck, man? Did you fake it? Was this whole thing just… just...” His hand shook as he held it out accusingly. He couldn’t stop staring at the plastic hand, at what he now knew was a _plastic_ cock, that he’d taken into his mouth—

He could see betrayal and rejection in Adam’s eyes. Bullshit, fake emotions. Why didn’t Adam have an LED? Wasn’t that illegal?

“No, I didn’t fucking fake it!” Adam sounded indignant. Great, CyberLife, way to program emotional manipulation along with all the other bullshit to make these things seem real. “What the hell is wrong with you?” It got up and out of Gavin’s bed. “You said a good time. You’re the one who invited me here. I was just minding my own business. I just wanted to talk to guys.”

“Oh, so now this is _my_ fault?” Gavin’s hands clenched into fists, and as he fumed he went and grabbed his clothes, tossing Adam’s shirt at it as he hurriedly got dressed. Shit, fuck, fucking _fuck._ “You better get out, now,” he growled, “before I call my buddies at the DPD and have you arrested for removing your LED and going out in human clothes. Go the fuck home to whoever owns you and stay the fuck out of our bars. What do you do, seduce us and film us with your camera eyes and take it home to your sick voyeur owner?” 

Adam was pulling on its jeans. It grabbed its shirt and pulled on both sleeves, buttoning it up quickly with uncanny precision. “I thought you liked me,” it shot back. “I thought you’d be different from the other humans. I was wrong.” Their eyes met, as Adam scowled at him, plastic face a picture of pure disgust. Gavin had to admit, it was convincing.

Adam headed to the front door, opened it, and glared back at Gavin. “Fuck you,” it declared, and slammed the door in Gavin’s face.

“Fuck you too, you plastic prick,” Gavin muttered at the closed door, then rubbed his temples and sighed. He was so disgusted with himself he could scream. How could he have let this happen? There had to have been warning signs. He was going to need to be a _lot_ more careful in the future—this had happened _twice_ now. It was like they were seeking him out. What the fuck thrill could they possibly get? Did they want to seduce humans as part of some twisted sex cult? Did they go home and swap it over their wireless connection?

Gavin poured himself a shot and knocked it back, then took a five minute shower and realized he was exhausted. Fuck it, he’d just go to bed. What a shitty end to a shitty day.

Yet as he lay awake that night, thinking back on the rough, good fuck they’d had, his dick had to complicate everything by getting hard at the memory. Maybe he shouldn’t have kicked Adam out. They could have had another one, just as good as the first. But Gavin Reed was no plastic fucker, and he didn’t appreciate being led on by a gross sexual deviant android, who possibly was a literal deviant on top of it. Great. More shit on his plate at work. Hank could fucking deal with this one, when it inevitably killed a human for no good goddamn reason.

Sighing, he pointedly ignored his erection, and went to sleep.

Gavin awoke in the middle of the night, every bit as hard as he’d been when he went to sleep. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he suddenly have a kink for disgust?

Fine, guess he’d have to take care of it. Gavin grabbed his tablet off his nightstand and opened it to his favorite porn site, scrolling through a sea of amateur videos of gorgeous, delicate twinks jerking off. He squinted at every image, looking for an LED or patches of telltale gray and white plastic. This site was humans only, but _clearly_ he couldn’t be too fucking careful. What the fuck was up with that lately, and with him? Did the God Gavin didn’t believe in have it out for him or some shit?

Finally, Gavin settled on a video and got to it, reaching down, lifting the waistband up and over his very erect cock and taking himself in hand. His eyes closed and his head tipped back with a sigh. Fuck, how had this happened? Was the sex with Plastic Adam really that good? 

Yes, of course, of course it was. But it’d have been better if it had been with a real person. He’d have to alert the force—Adam was probably an escaped sexbot, for what kind of glorious package it had. And that ass had felt so damn good clenching around his—

_No. Stop it, Reed. Watch the slutty twink. You are not going to cum twice in one evening for an_ android, _no matter how hot it was._

Because while CyberLife clearly was happy to sell people delusions, Gavin Reed was not going to give in to them. Gavin Reed was going to open his eyes, look over at his tablet and jerk his dick to the sight of this pale doe-eyed brunet twink with the gravelly voice and the long, slender legs. Fuck, he really had a type lately, didn’t he? He watched the guy in the video suck on his fingers before reaching down to finger his hole, sighing so prettily that Gavin groaned in hunger. God, to have watched Adam do that, or to have had the lights on so he could have watched that tight asshole stretch around his big, thick cock—

_Goddamn it, dude, stop thinking about the fucking android!_

That was it, he needed this to be over, fast and hard, so he didn’t just think about how it felt to be buried in that twink ass, fucking it as hard as he could and losing control completely, helpless to the pleasure. And it had even said his name, said _please, Gavin, do it however you want—_ however he wanted, all his to kiss, to blow, to fuck as roughly as he wanted. Rougher than any of his human partners had ever let him—

Gavin arched his back and came with a long, deep groan. 

As he slowly caught his breath, pulsing cock still in one hand with rapidly cooling seed on his hairy abs, he decided, pointedly, to not think about what had just happened, _twice,_ any more. Instead, he got up, cleaned himself up, and went back to sleep.


	3. The Eden Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin’s libido takes him to an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut tags: Dubious consent due to sex with a non-deviant android, anal sex, dirty talk, degradation, objectification, blowjobs.

That morning, as he was getting his coffee, he heard Anderson talking to someone and was about to go sneer at him for actually getting to work before noon until he realized that he was talking to the RK800. 

Gavin exited the break room and made for his desk, placing the coffee down on it gently so as not to spill it. Hank and the RK800 were sitting across from each other; clearly something had happened, because Hank’s usual sourpuss seemed more pleasant today. Great, the one time Anderson’s misery could have worked in his favor, it seemed to have gone away.

The RK800 was explaining something to Hank in its stupid kindergarten voice. God, even the sound of its voice made Gavin want to react with violence.

But he hadn’t forgotten what Fowler said about tampering with it. As much as he longed to put a bullet between its eyes, he didn’t want to screw up at work, he really didn’t. He had a good thing going here—or, well, he _used_ to, before he had to share with RoboCop, but hopefully it wouldn’t be there for long. Time to get some work done.

Gavin hit the gym after work, and went into the locker room to change into his workout gear. Once in his shorts and tank—too bad he wasn’t allowed to work out shirtless—Gavin put his street clothes away and looked at himself in the mirror and smirked. That tank really showed off all the hard work he’d done on himself—he was particularly proud of the definition he had in his pecs. It was like cleavage, but for men, and he’d caught plenty of guys staring at him; there was no shortage of men (or women) into otters, who wanted to run their fingers through the straight, dark hair that sprouted from the middle of his chest and followed his sternum and abs all the way down to where the real action was. The biceps weren’t too shabby, either. Normally he had a whole routine to keep everything in tip-top shape, just in case he met a dude at a bar into muscle worship. Today, however, he was just going to run on the track and do a little lifting and go home. 

After five miles of running, Gavin stopped, his legs tight and his heart pounding from the exercise. He was drenched with sweat, his mind swimming with dopamine. He wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt, no doubt doing someone else a favor by giving them a view of his tightly muscled abdomen. 

However, he wouldn’t be doing any hooking up today. He needed a break from the apparently constant low-level threat of being seduced (ick) by androids. Once—well, twice—was bad enough. Three times, if he counted the frantic 2 am jerkoff—

Rolling his eyes, Gavin headed to the weight room.

As he adjusted the weight on the bench press bar—he was good, but not 200 pounds good—he couldn’t help but notice how many of his fellow lifters had android personal trainers spotting them. Actually—he glanced around the room—he was the only one there without one. Really? He supposed having one there to make sure he didn’t drop the weight on his neck was wise, but aside from that, it was a glorified stopwatch. What the hell did they need it for? His phone did everything he needed and it even talked to him, if that mattered—why lug around an uncanny, soulless robot?

After he finished his usual weight routine, he hit the shower, stripping down nude and not even bothering to care if anyone looked. Hell, he invited it. Yeah, he was in good shape and yeah, it was big, and the balls weren’t half bad either. However, no one was looking tonight—most were minding their own business or had already gone home. A pity.

As he was toweling off and getting dressed, Gavin saw a magazine tablet left by the gym staff. He picked it up. “Detroit Today: Arctic Tensions Escalate.” Fuck, the world really was going to hell. How goddamn depressing.

Then the cover changed to a lurid pink and purple advertisement of a woman in stripper gear dancing around a pole. “Android sex officially better!” it exclaimed. “Sorry, ladies, but plastic can’t be beat!”

Gavin’s brow furrowed as he read it, then squinted, held it further away from his face, and scowled. It was an ad for a fucking android brothel. Gross. What the fuck was wrong with people? Then again, at least here, you knew they were androids, they weren’t deviants, and they obeyed the law. They weren’t just running around Detroit seducing innocent studs at bars. Still, though. Were real bodies just not good enough anymore? He had to work hard to stay fit. Androids were fucking cheating and frankly, it wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to compete like that. Oh well, the people who went to—what was it called?—Eden Club probably didn’t get out much anyway. Figures that they’d have to resort to fucking ambulating vibrators and Fleshlights to get laid. Gavin snorted, and gave the ad one more look before setting the tablet back on the locker room bench where he’d found it. Clearly not an ad targeted to him. He grabbed his gym bag and headed home.

Dinner was something old and frozen; he really needed to go shopping, but he’d been busy dealing with the work bullshit and then the aftermath of the work bullshit. Now that he was tired and sore—he really did a number on himself today, his arms burned and he possibly had not stretched nearly enough this time—the inconvenience seemed worse. That was the one thing Gavin could concede androids being useful for: convenience. Having one do his shopping and cook for him so he could stop getting ripped off by the takeout joint across the street sounded good right now. 

He wondered, idly, as he poked a fork into the sad, still-partially-frozen brick of fuck-knows-what he’d microwaved, whether or not the RK800 knew how to cook. Imagine—untold billions of dollars of R&D, CyberLife’s pride and joy, made to be Gavin’s personal assistant. That’d fucking teach it a lesson.

Whatever. As soon as it outlived its usefulness, Gavin was gonna have a fun time kicking it in the dick. If it even had one.

After a few hours of boring crime drama reruns and losing online poker against the computer, Gavin went to bed. 

It was the weekend, _finally_ , and Gavin was in his car, waiting in a drive-thru line for his breakfast burrito and first coffee of the day when he remembered the Eden Club ad again. Gavin still couldn’t believe that there was a market for that sort of thing. Well, he _could_ , there was a market for fucking everything, especially when it came to sex, but really? An android brothel? Couldn’t people just watch porn? … There _was_ android porn, right? Gavin wouldn’t know, because he had sex with actual men, and thus there was no need for him to watch two male robots make poorly programmed noises at each other. Plus it was fucking weird, right? At least real porn had actors. With androids it was like watching a computer play chess against itself, but with dicks. What the fuck was the point?

Sighing in frustration at the deplorable state of humanity, Gavin pulled up to the window, paid, and received his breakfast, parking in the lot and eating in his car. Fuck yeah, sausage and cheese and scrambled eggs, hot and juicy and greasy right in his face. He was starving after that workout and the sad dinner the night before.

He ate half of it and paused for coffee, then glanced out his window at the other breakfast-goers who had had the same craving for the best fast-food joint in Detroit on a pleasant, if chilly, November day. They had good taste. Even if—he squinted—some of them weren’t actually people.

Gavin liked his job, but weekends were important. Normally he went out on Friday nights, but he’d been weary of fending off the advances of androids. Tonight would be different, though. He’d try a _third_ bar, or potentially go back to the Deep End again and be more careful.

He finished his burrito and dug his phone out of his pocket. Better yet, he’d dial up a fuck buddy. Guaranteed to be a human, and he had quite a few booty calls to choose from.

… Or so he thought. Gavin flicked the screen and scrolled through. _Let’s see… Lance moved to Virginia, Chase met someone, I remember from his Facebook page, David hasn’t fucking responded to my texts in months, Parker ended up in fucking_ prison, _fuck, that asshole needs to get his shit together—_

Seriously? No one? Fuck. This was ridiculous. Whose dick did Gavin have to suck to get laid? Whatever. He’d go buy some goddamn groceries and go home and figure out his next move.

It was getting to be early evening and Gavin, now in possession of groceries and a kitchen not covered in dirty dishes and takeout containers, was restless. He definitely needed to get laid tonight, but where? Everywhere he went he just ended up with androids. What the fuck?

Then it occurred to him. He knew _exactly_ where he could find men who would be desperate for a lay.

A quick Google search for directions and he was on his way.

Gavin parked his car several blocks away from his destination and pulled up the hood of his leather jacket, glancing around discreetly. Fuck, if anyone he knew saw him here they’d have something to say about it. But if anywhere on Earth had eligible men who needed to be pity-fucked, it was here. 

Gavin grimaced as he beheld the gaudy, tasteless neon sign. _Eden Club._ With a fucking devil tail in the logo. What the fuck was he doing here again?

Right, he was here to do a favor for some sad loser who came here to bang android hookers.

Half a block away, Gavin stalled. Exactly how the fuck was he supposed to approach this? Should he try to intercept people before they went in? Should he quietly go up to people inside the building? This would be a fuck of a lot easier if there were no androids at all. Then all the humans would be in bars again—his for the taking—or at home, beating off to porn like civilized people. 

Well, he didn’t want to be seen inside the building, but he didn’t want to be seen _outside_ of it, either.

Gavin sighed. He pulled his vape out of his pocket and sucked on it for five counts before tilting his head back and exhaling voluminous clouds into the air. A little nicotine would make the nerves settle down. He put it back in his pocket and went in.

He had been apprehensive about the ID check but it wasn’t nearly as thorough as he expected—the guy barely even looked at it, or at him. Ignoring the legal ramifications of that level of carelessness, he approached. A female android pole dancer winked at him as its circled its pole, and Gavin shivered. It was so real it was uncanny, and pretty fucked up, to be honest. There was a male one behind it who clearly had been programmed by a straight guy engineer, because it barely fucking knew how to dance. What the fuck was up with that shit? Gavin had seen twinks as sensual as any woman burlesque dancer. _They_ were the ones who should program these things.

Gavin looked around. There weren’t many people here; maybe he came here too early. The few men who were here either weren’t his type, or, well, looked like they were the sort of people who probably _had_ to pay for sex. They weren’t Gavin Reed, playboy and eligible bachelor. And no matter how in the mood he was to make someone’s day, they had to be attractive, or else his dick would lose interest.

Then he spotted someone promising—not hot, really, but at least potentially DTF.

“Hey,” Gavin greeted in a low voice as he approached.

The man looked almost startled. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ I’m trying to talk to you,” Gavin retorted.

“Do I know you?” the man asked, suspicious.

“No. That’s why I said hey. Wanted to let you know you’re not stuck fucking plastic unless you wanna be.”

The man snorted. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for the offer, but I’m here for a reason. Got real tired of pricks like you trying to get in my pants. Why don’t you try a bar and leave us to our business, huh?” He pressed his palm to a panel and a tall musclechub android stepped out of its plastic case and introduced itself to him, and they walked away.

Ugh. Well, _that_ backfired. Fuck that guy. There’d be someone else, there always was.

However, he was beginning to realize just how awkward it was to be standing aimlessly in a room full of sexbots in plastic cases. He’d have to get lucky soon.

It looked like this place was deeper than he’d noticed originally, so Gavin crept in slowly, glancing around and looking. It surprised him to see so many women there paying for android sex, until he remembered how many dudes he’d had to tell off on Tina’s birthday last year. Even with how assertive he was when he was out, there was a fucking line, there just was. When they say no, you back the fuck off and you find someone else who actually wants it.

Still, though. Androids? They couldn’t possibly be better than real men.

Gavin walked by a single woman, tiny and petite, who’d selected a big, strapping android dude to fuck, and resisted the urge to snort at her.

In the innermost room, there was a dead end, and Gavin ended up beyond LED light curtains in what was possibly the VIP section—he hadn’t been paying attention to how much any of these things cost, but it was probably safe to assume he’d stumbled into the area with the most expensive ones. He peered into a case at an absolutely gorgeous, smooth twink giving him a sexy, shy look and he had to stop himself from saying hello. What the fuck? It was inside a fucking case. It obviously wasn’t a real person. Gavin shuddered. He’d better find a dude to pick up, fast, because—

“Hey, you!” someone shouted.

“What?” Gavin replied, spinning around so quickly he almost got disoriented. “What do you want?”

It was the guy he’d hit on before, with someone who appeared to be an Eden Club employee. “This guy right here.” He then left, tossing Gavin a rude look as he went.

The employee, a bouncer-type guy who was only slightly taller than Gavin, approached. “We got a complaint about harassment from him. You need to either pick an android and get busy, or leave. Got it?”

Gavin gave the employee the ugliest look he could manage. “Fine.”

The employee left, muttering something under his breath.

Gavin swore quietly and tried to think. Shit, his entire plan had backfired. What now? No fuck buddies, no twinks at bars, and he really, _really_ needed it tonight. He’d been so horny lately, could feel the tension in his groin even though he wasn’t hard yet. He needed to be. 

Gavin turned back to the beautiful twink in the case. It smiled and winked at him, then ran its hands down its lovely, delicate fake musculature and gave him a sultry look.

Then Gavin turned around, looking behind him, seeing no one.

He hurriedly got out his credit card, then pressed a palm to the panel and winced as it talked to him. “A thirty-minute session costs—”

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up,” Gavin hissed.

The twink stepped out of the case. “Welcome to Eden Club,” it said in a surprisingly deep voice. “I’ll take you to your room.”

Jesus fucking Christ, this was a mistake.

Gavin followed the android into a room that was, fortunately, nearby, because he was desperate to not be seen here, by anyone at all. Fuck, he hoped there weren’t any cameras, but there’d be a fucking scandal if there were. Was this risky? Yes. Could someone find out? Possibly.

Was the android hot? Definitely, and did Gavin need it? Yes. Yes he did.

The door shut and locked automatically behind them. Then the twink introduced itself. “Greetings. I am an HR400 model created by CyberLife for your pleasure. What would you like me to call you?”

“Gavin,” he said and regretted it instantly. Wouldn’t it remember? Fuck it, he’d come this far.

“Welcome, Gavin. Before we begin, I must ask you a few questions,” it said, in the same obnoxious kindergarten voice Connor used.

“Whatever,” Gavin muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes. Shoot.” He waved his hand impatiently.

“Is my appearance pleasing to you? My skin, eye and hair color are all completely customizable to your preferences.” 

Gavin looked it up and down, from the soft blond hair and golden skin to its crystal clear blue eyes. “Paler. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Can you do that? The rest is, uh, fine.” God, he sounded so awkward, but then again, this was the absolute _last_ goddamn thing he’d expected to do today. He fucking hated androids. Why was he here?

Then RoboTwink’s hair turned the color of chocolate, its skin shimmered, and its eyes turned dark, shy and lovely.

Fuck.

“Next, I must ask you: would you prefer male or female genitalia?”

“Male, duh,” Gavin responded, rolling his eyes.

It didn’t miss a beat. “Eden Club wishes its clients to be able to fulfill every fantasy. Should you change your mind, I am able to switch to female at any time.”

“Uh… okay. I’m not… not really into the whole gender swap thing, so just be a dude for me.” God, this was beyond awkward. Gavin was beginning to get cold feet.

“Lastly, I would like you to inspect me to be sure that I will suit your needs.”

Gavin wasn’t sure what it meant, until he watched it slide down its android briefs to reveal its android cock. It was smaller than Gavin’s, but he was the one topping, so fuck it. Plus, it was so cute—enough to stroke and handle, and not so small that it wasn’t fun anymore. It was flushed slightly—wow, they really did go the whole nine yards for this—and, of course, erect.

“Looks good,” Gavin said with a smirk. “Turn around and bend over for me, will you?”

The android beamed. “Thank you.” It did as Gavin asked, and Gavin reached out to palm and grope one of its cheeks. Fuck, it felt so lifelike. 

Okay, so, this was weird, and Gavin was never, _ever_ going to do it again. It was just one night, for a lark, because clearly there were no human men left in this city and Gavin had to get laid _somehow._ So just this once… he’d enjoy it.

“Would you like to give me a name?” it asked, as Gavin shrugged out of his clothes.

“Nope. You don’t need one.”

Gavin closed the distance between them and kissed the android, biting its fleshy lower lip. It moaned softly into the kiss, its hands hesitantly reaching out to touch him, one in his hair, the other shyly pressed to his waist. He wasn’t sure if the shyness was a programmed profile or if it had read him and figured it out, but he supposed it didn’t matter, so long as he was having a good time. Its kiss was delicate, almost coy, and when Gavin pulled back to breathe it looked flushed, its lips even reddened slightly to simulate contact and blushing. Gavin took a moment to stare into its eyes, searching, then took a step back.

“You know,” Gavin began, reaching out with one hand, taking the android’s chin between his finger and thumb and turning its head sideways, “I don’t normally do this. I don’t normally fuck worthless hunks of plastic like you. I only fuck real men. Men who feel shit. Men who are alive.”

Its LED went yellow for a second and its eyes widened, and Gavin wondered how it would respond. Then it surprised him by making a soft sound of pleasure.

Gavin ignored it. “But apparently, all the real men in Detroit want to fuck plastic instead of me. All the real men in Detroit are here, screwing sexbots like you.” He could feel that anger again, creeping into his hands, which tightened as they went to the android’s shoulders. “And apparently, you fucking machines are now out in the world, pretending to be one of us. The world has gone fucking upside down. And if I could find a willing man, I wouldn’t fucking be here,” he declared, almost to himself, yet the android was hanging on his every word, as though he was reciting poetry. “So what’s a playboy to do? Say ‘fuck it’ and accept you fuckers as our new overlords? Well, that’s not what I’m gonna fucking do. That’s not how this fucking works.”

Gavin pressed hard on the android’s shoulders; it got the message, and sank to its knees, looking up at him, its cheeks still flushed. 

“What are you?” he demanded, looking down at it.

“I… I’m an android,” it replied softly, holding Gavin’s gaze.

“That’s right. You obey us. You belong to us. You serve us. Now, how are you gonna serve me tonight?” Gavin tugged down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. The android stared at it hungrily.

“I could give you a blowjob,” it suggested, sounding very aroused by the idea.

Gavin smirked. “Get to it.”

The android reached up and took hold of the base of Gavin’s cock, guiding it to its lips and taking it inside all the way, past where a human’s gag reflex would have stopped the slow glide. Its teeth were less sharp than a human’s, which made sense, and for which Gavin was grateful, as he was not interested in getting his dick chopped off if this thing broke somehow. He bottomed out inside its throat and hummed with pleasure. “That’s right. Suck my fucking dick. That’s what you’re made for. This is all you’re good for.”

It moaned around Gavin’s cock and set a fast pace, as Gavin took a fistful of its hair and pulled, hard. It wasn’t even fazed, just closed its eyes and made very pleased sounds as it sucked him in. Its mouth was soft, hot, wet, and felt just like the real thing.

Gavin stared down at it, thrusting hard down its throat, burying its nose in the dark hair surrounding his cock. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. You’re just here for me to use, for all these horny motherfuckers to use. Bet they just cover you in their fucking cum, don’t they?” It moaned again. “I bet you’d like it, too, if you could feel anything. Bet you’d like being a whore for all of us humans to use. Pull off.”

The android did as it was told, and Gavin took in its abused mouth, artificially reddened, and the fake saliva dripping down its chin.

“Get on the bed. You’re all lubed in there, right?”

“Of course.”

“And they clean you out after every client or whatever?”

“Yes. All Eden Club androids are equipped with state-of-the-art sterilization—”

“Good. Because I want it bareback tonight and to fucking go as hard as I can. And you can’t stop me,” he declared, voice going ragged.

It looked over its shoulder at him. “I don’t want to stop you, Gavin. I want you inside of me.”

Gavin felt hot all over at the android’s words. Yeah, it was programmed to say that, but it didn’t make it any less hot. He climbed onto the bed, to where the android was on its hands and knees waiting for him. Gavin climbed up to it and took its cheeks in his hands, kneading them and rubbing two fingers in circles around its hole. It moaned softly. “Good, you’re already wet. You’re gonna need it.” Gavin took his cock in one hand and lined it up, then pushed in, gripping the android’s hips and pulling them back against him. “Fuck,” he moaned. “That’s good. Fuck, you’re tight.” He lost himself a little, eyes closing, head tipping back. The texture was so real, even the way it squeezed him. “Tell me how bad you want it. Beg me for it. Talk to me,” he gasped, as he began to thrust, still gripping its hips in his large hands.

The android moaned deeply, and it sounded so lifelike that just for a little while, Gavin could believe the illusion, could give in to the pleasure. “Please, Gavin, I want it,” it cried. “I want your cock so badly. I need it. I need to be fucked, to be used.”

Oh, _fuck,_ that was hot. Did it like this? Did it actually _like_ this? All those sighs and moans from earlier… 

“Yeah, I bet you do. I bet you love this cock, stretching you open, fucking you so deep. Bet you love this big, hard cock pounding you,” he grunted, picking up the pace.

“Yes, Gavin,” it moaned, louder this time. “You feel so good inside me, I like it rough, please do it harder, make it hurt!”

“Oh, I bet you like it rough, you fucking whore,” Gavin gasped, slamming into it, bowing his head. “Fuck, ah, _fuck_ —gonna cum soon—you want it? You want my fucking cum?”

“Yes, please,” it cried. “Please, I need your cum, please, Gavin, I need it—”

Fuck—

Gavin felt himself pulse hard as he spent inside its ass, groaning loudly, deep in his chest as he panted, thrusting slowly, riding it out. It squeezed him so hard, he didn’t want to pull out, but he felt himself start to soften and had to. Fuck. That was good, way better than he’d anticipated. He could almost— _almost_ —see the appeal.

Gavin flopped onto his back on the bed to catch his breath.

“Should I maintain my erection for further play?” it asked, breaking the mood slightly.

Gavin shrugged wordlessly, then got up to the en-suite and went to clean up.

Fuck, that was good. Really, really, _really_ good. Gavin hated to admit how good it was. He could barely breathe. Fuck, he had to do it again, screw it. He was already here.

Once cleaned up, Gavin went back to the bed.

“Would you like to have sex again?” it asked. “You have twelve minutes remaining. After that, you will be billed for a separate thirty-minute session.”

Twelve minutes. He wasn’t sure he could get it up again by then, but it was possible.

“Give me a few minutes,” Gavin replied, and reached down with an attempt to shake and stroke himself hard again.

After a few minutes of self-fondling, Gavin was starting to feel cautiously optimistic about getting laid twice for however much this cost. He should probably have paid attention to that.

Then his phone went off—not a call, not a text, but the alarm that let him know there was a police call.

Fuck. What the hell? Why’d they contact _him?_ Wasn’t this Anderson’s job? Son of a bitch, did he finally drink himself to death?

Gavin reached down to the floor and dug around in his jeans for his phone, swiping to unlock it and glancing at the screen.

_Homicide at Eden Club, address 2215 CyberLife Plaza._

Fuck.

_Fuck._

_Reed, if you’re in the area, I want you there ASAP. No response from Anderson yet, so the android is looking for him. Until it finds him, this one’s yours. Got it?_

Of all the fucking things to happen _right now—_

_Yes, sir,_ he typed, hit ‘send’, and resisted the urge to hurl his phone against the opposite wall. Now what?

Well, he couldn’t show up immediately, that was for sure—then it’d be obvious he was already here, and if the others at the DPD caught wind of this, he’d never live it down.

But if he didn’t show soon, he’d have a lot harder time getting that promotion. 

Either way, he definitely wasn’t getting laid again tonight. Son of a _bitch._

“All right, I’m leaving. Is there any other way out of this building by any chance?” Gavin asked, hurriedly getting dressed.

The android looked over at him from where it was standing off to the side of the room, inert. “If you exit this room and turn left, there is an alternative exit. On behalf of Eden Club I wish you a pleasant rest of your day.”

“Thanks,” Gavin muttered, grabbing his jacket, putting it on, pulling up the hood and then leaving.

First things first: he had to go to his car and get his other jacket, because if, on the off chance, anyone recognized him, he didn’t want it to be quite so immediately obvious that he had been fucking one of their sexbots in the ass not ten minutes prior. And while he knew the scene would be locked down ASAP, maybe he could at least pretend he hadn’t been there.

As Gavin went to look for that exit, he heard a voice calling out from behind him.

“You! Don’t go anywhere. This is a closed crime scene. Everyone here is a suspect.”

Gavin stopped. That voice was familiar. He turned around.

_Chris?_

“Oh! Sorry, Detective Reed, I didn’t know it was you. Damn, you got here fast. So, what’s the plan?”

Chris Miller was in uniform, looking as well-kept as ever. Gavin had thought to himself more than once that it was a shame he was married. Whatever. He was happy. And happy people were less of a pain in the ass at work.

Fuck, that was right—the work call. Shit. Well, he couldn’t leave _now,_ not even for a different jacket. Fortunately, Chris clearly hadn’t picked up on why Gavin was here, and he’d keep it that way.

Chris ushered Gavin into the main room. “Looks like Reed got here first. Man, you make us all look bad,” he laughed, and the other small handful of uniformed cops joined in.

Gavin felt sweat form on the back of his neck. “I was nearby,” he—well, it wasn’t a _lie,_ not technically. “Let’s take a look.” They walked into the room where the crime had taken place.

Then to Gavin’s chagrin, the bouncer from earlier appeared. “Hey asshole, what are you doing in there? The cops said no civilians.”

Gavin glared daggers at him. “That’s Detective Reed to you. Now, unless you want us to sell this story to the press, I suggest you shut the fuck up and let us do our jobs.”

The bouncer threw up his hands and walked off.

_Fuck,_ Gavin thought, _he better not ban me from this place._

Gavin gestured to Chris and the others and they went in to examine the victim. He crouched down near the body with Chris. Looked like the guy had been strangled—must have been into that. And there was the android he’d been fucking, on the ground nearby. It had blue blood leaking from its nostrils. Looked dead, or broken, more or less.

“So what do you guys think?” Gavin posed, getting to his feet. “Some jerkoff gets in here, rents an android to choke him, and doesn’t tap out? Open and shut case. But we’ll wait for forensics.”

They each examined the room quietly before Chris broke the silence. “So where were you when you got the call?”

Gavin started. “Me?”

“Yeah. You beat me here and I was drinking a beer two blocks away. Really lucky that you were so close by.” Chris was eyeing Dead Hookerbot, probably to see if it was permanently broken or not. Then he laughed. “Was the great Gavin Reed, playboy extraordinaire, here banging an android?”

Gavin’s heart stopped, then slowly, slowly started again.

Chris didn’t… he _couldn’t…_ could he?

“Nah, I’m kidding. From the stories you tell, I get the feeling you’d never be desperate enough to try your luck here. Me on the other hand, my playboy days are over. I’m a father now.” He got to his feet and Gavin saw his chest swell with pride as he smiled. “Maybe someday, Reed, you’ll—”

“No thanks,” Gavin cut him off flatly, and then the door opened and he was met with none other than—

“Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet. The fuck are you two doing here?” Gavin’s arms crossed as he met the onlookers with disdain. Fucking took Anderson long enough. So, he didn’t drink himself to death after all. 

“We’ve been assigned all cases involving androids,” Connor piped up in that stupid fucking patronizing voice.

“Oh, yeah?” Gavin rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re wasting your time.” He turned to the corpse on the bed. “Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle.” He laughed. God, what a fucking idiot. Gavin was generally not pleased to see corpses, nor did he feel completely cold when he saw so much death and gore around him. But at a certain point, with cases like this, you had to laugh. You just had to. The sheer number of people who ended up hospitalized or dead due to sexual mishaps was staggering.

“We’ll have a look anyway, if you don’t mind.” Hank’s tone was polite, but there was an undercurrent that sounded a little too much like attitude for Gavin’s liking.

Then again, Hank ranked higher than him, and that was that.

Snorting, Gavin looked over at Chris. Their work was done here—Fowler had said he could leave when Hank showed up, and Hank was here, so it was time to get the fuck out. “Come on, let’s go.” He made his way to the door and made a gesture at Hank. “It’s, uh, starting to stink of booze in here.”

Then, he indulged an urge he’d had since they met, and shoulder-checked Connor on the way out. _Fuck_ that thing. Mister Kindergarten Teacherbot, with its perfect enunciation and obnoxious tone. As if Gavin didn’t know exactly what that prick was up to.

Gavin heard Chris tell Hank good night on the way out. He looked at his phone. It was a little later than he’d expected, but still early. He thought briefly of trying to sneak back in there and bang that twinkbot a second time but… no. Once was enough. He’d get back to real men, thank you very much.

“Any exciting plans for this evening?” Chris asked him once they were out of the building.

Gavin paused. He hated to look like he didn’t have a life, but he couldn’t think of a good lie. “Nah. Just gonna go home.”

“Me too. I’m beat. Good night, Reed. Stay out of trouble.” Chris smirked, and they parted ways.

As Gavin walked back to his car, he hoped like hell that Chris hadn’t seen, or heard, anything… incriminating.

Connor made its way through the purple lit halls, with Lieutenant Anderson close by, ready to assist with his human fingerprints. The deviant had come through here, but Connor wasn’t sure where it had gone.

Connor followed the trail to a room at the end of the hall. There were three androids in cases: two female and one male, off to the side. Triangulating the possible paths the deviant could have taken, Connor determined that the male would be most likely to have seen it. Connor could connect to them all, of course, but it would rather save Lieutenant Anderson the hassle and expense, if possible.

Connor walked up to the male in the case. It gave Connor a look through partially closed eyes, in what Connor reasoned was a simulation of human sexual desire.

Connor turned to look at Lieutenant Anderson, who was stroking his beard as he examined the room. “Lieutenant, could you please—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Fuck, this shit adds up. Glad I have an expense account. Though Fowler’s gonna have something to say about it...” Hank grimaced as he put one palm on the reader, and the android stepped out of its case, addressing him in a deep voice.

Connor reached out and took its forearm, connecting them. Connor’s eyes widened, and its mouth fell open as it saw, and heard, a very familiar human in the memory of this android.

Then Connor skipped past that particular memory. Nope, no deviant. Connor would have to check elsewhere.

“See something?” Hank asked, studying it.

Connor composed itself. “No. It didn’t come this way. I’m going to try a different room.”


	4. The Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin continues to antagonize Connor, and tries to get him decommissioned.

When Gavin got to work the following Monday, he was already in a foul mood. He’d spent his Sunday catching up on his gym work and taking a long drive outside the city and while it had been nice, he couldn’t help but feel agitated. It disturbed him to admit that his fuck with RoboTwink had been one of the best he’d had in a long time. That wasn’t how it should go. Fuck, maybe he needed to take a break from hookups for a while, because the idea that banging androids could somehow be on par with banging humans was unthinkable. He would not have it. Fuck that.

So when, while at the coffee machine, he heard an android manifesto start to come on the TV in the break room, he came dangerously close to doing a literal spit take.

After it finished its speech, Gavin stared at the screen, flabbergasted.

He was right. He was _right._ Those sons of bitches had it out for them. 

Gavin drank half his coffee in one go, wincing at the heat, then marched on up to Fowler’s office. He had to say something—this shit was getting real and Fowler needed to know about it.

“Cap—” he began, but Fowler held up one hand.

“Reed, I do _not_ wanna hear it. I know exactly what you’re about to say, and Hank and the android are over there investigating it as we speak. So unless you’re here about something else, this conversation is over.”

Fuming, Gavin shot back, “You’re seriously sending that android with Hank after what those deviants did at Stratford Tower? Really?”

Fowler gave him a very serious look, one that actually made him pause. “Yes. And if you want to keep your job, you will address me with respect. Now get the hell out of here.”

Gavin left wordlessly, and was tempted to punch a wall, but they were all made of glass and metal and it’d be a stupid fucking idea.

Connor was gone for the moment. Gavin knew he couldn’t do anything about its presence at the precinct in general—he hadn’t forgotten Fowler’s warning, and clearly it was no longer up for discussion. For now, the best he could hope for was for it to get shot in the line of duty.

He was muttering to himself in the archives when his phone beeped.

_Dude. Hank and that android are back with evidence. I gotta tell you this story! Come down to the break room._

It was Tina. Gavin grimaced at the thought of dealing with Connor, but he could use a break, and to talk to a human being instead of decades-old records and screens. 

He made his way back down to the break room, where Tina was talking to Connor. Wait, what? Why was she talking to the android?

“Gavin, there you are,” she greeted. “Dude, I wanted you down here so you could hear Connor’s story about how it saved everyone from one of the deviants. Isn’t that right, Connor?” She was grinning ear to ear, as though she actually _admired_ that thing. What the fuck?

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Gavin played along, with no small measure of exasperation. “Tell us, Connor.” His tone was sarcastic.

Dutifully, and with a hint of pride on its face tempered with a crowd-pleasing measure of humility, Connor related the story. “I questioned three androids at Stratford Tower today. One was a deviant. It attacked me, then fled. I recovered quickly enough to apprehend it before it did any further damage.”

“What do you think?” Tina elbowed him, as though he somehow owed it a response.

Gavin gave a grimace, and a sarcastic nod of his head. “Thank you, Connor,” he said sardonically. “You get a gold star for doing your fucking job.”

Tina punched him in the arm. “Be nice, Gav. It just saved the lives of like, four people. When was the last time _you_ did that?” She got off the chair she was sitting in and touched Connor’s shoulder. “Seriously. Thank you. I know you’re just a machine, but… thank you.” Then she left the break room with a spring in her step.

Connor’s eyes lit up, and it almost looked like it was smiling.

Gavin sighed and used the opportunity to get another cup of coffee. 

“I need to return to work. Do you require any further assistance, Detective Reed?”

“No,” Gavin shot back irritably, glaring into the coffee machine. “You’ve done enough. I don’t need any help.”

He turned around just in time to see Connor look a bit artificially put out. Then it composed itself and left, presumably to find Anderson.

Gavin swore under his breath. “Fucking androids.”

Gavin had originally planned to make some phone calls, but instead, the five-minute trip back into the archives to grab his laptop had turned into thirty minutes of watching the Stratford Tower speech and trying to swallow his rage and incredulity. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute. This was it. They were _fucked_ , so completely and irrevocably that it left him speechless. Then, for a time, he had thought of nothing at all until his phone had buzzed and broken him out of it.

He glanced at the flashing icon on the screen. It was Tina.

Shaking off the fog in his brain, he picked up his phone and swiped and held it to his ear. “What’s up,” he said half-heartedly.

“Gavin, oh my god. If you wanna watch Connor kick some ass, there’s a video that’s just been added to the server. You gotta see it!” God, why was she so excited about that thing? What could possibly be this exciting about a goddamn android detective? No one ever got this excited when _he_ was investigating.

“Fuck that, I’m busy,” he replied sourly. “We _literally_ just talked about it downstairs.”

“Gavin Anthony Reed, if you don’t watch that video I will march up there and pour hot coffee down the back of that ridiculous hoodie. And then I’ll key your car. Come on, I know you’re not doing anything right now, so just watch it.”

Gavin sat upright in his chair so that he was no longer slouching. “Really? You think you know me that well?”

He could almost hear her smirk. “Well enough to know you’re up there stewing over all the android shit. Look, Gav, they’re not going anywhere. Lighten up. Watch the video. Maybe once you see how good an asset it is, you’ll change your mind. Hey, at least you’re not Lieutenant Anderson. It follows him _everywhere._ He had to explain to it that he was going to the bathroom.” 

Gavin grimaced and stuck his tongue out in disgust. “I thought that’d be the first fucking thing CyberLife taught them not to do. Personal boundaries and all that. Tina, this is the reason I fucking hate these goddamn things. They look like people, but they’re fucking _not,_ and I feel like no one fucking remembers that anymore. And after that speech, a whole fucking lot of people are going to forget it.”

“No one’s gonna forget that androids aren’t human. Well, maybe some people will. Like the kind of people who see faces in electrical outlets or whatever. But jeez, Gav. You and your conspiracy theories. The world is not gonna end if an android takes its face off on TV. Yeah, our lives are about to get a little more difficult. But Connor is designed to fight the bad ones, right? It straight up shot one of them earlier. It literally saved lives, Gav.”

Gavin scowled audibly.

“Just watch the goddamn video. Don’t make me come up there.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh. Android hate or not, she was his friend. He’d do it for her. Ugh. “Fine. But you’re gonna fucking owe me one. You know how I feel about that thing.”

She made an amused sound. “Yes. You’ve made that clear. See you later.”

Gavin groaned irritably and hung up. He tossed his phone down with a clatter and navigated to the server directory on his laptop. He spotted the new file and clicked on it.

There was a minute or so of silence, with their men standing around waiting for instruction and Anderson talking to one of them. A maintenance android calmly walked into the room and made for the door. 

Then Gavin saw Connor burst into the room, pointing at it wildly. “It’s a deviant! Stop it!”

The deviant stole a weapon from the nearest officer, then Connor darted over to one of the feds, grabbed his handgun and fired three shots into the deviant. 

Three direct hits. Holy fuck. 

The deviant slumped to its knees and then sagged forward into the ground. Connor returned the gun to the agent from which it had taken it.

“Nice shot, Connor,” he heard Anderson say.

“I wanted it alive.” Connor sounded put out.

“You saved human lives,” Hank added, with a tone of deep, earnest admiration. “You saved _my_ life.”

Gavin closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as the video ended. His heart rate had elevated slightly in his agitation. What a fucking unbelievable day this was. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or build a bunker to ride out the coming AI singularity and apocalypse.

Gavin copied the file to his laptop and put it into standby. He needed to make those calls and get this done. Evening was often the best time to meet with people, when they were free from work. They were tired, and more likely to let their guard down. He’d get a bunch of meetings out of the way and put this shit out of his head, and maybe later, he could figure out a way out of this mess.

Gavin Reed wasn’t sure what to do.

If anyone were to have asked him how the year 2038 would go, he absolutely would not have responded _I banged two androids and then watched one break its programming and give a speech on TV._ And furthermore, he most _certainly_ would not have followed up with _Oh, and one of my coworkers is an android that shoots other androids three times to prevent a room full of humans from getting gunned down by a deviant._

He hated Connor, he realized. He fucking hated it. 

Ever since the Stratford Tower incident, more and more people were talking to Connor like it was a person. Like it actually gave a damn about taking that deviant out in order to save lives. Like it wasn’t just following its program, possessing no free will or life of its own.

Like its existence mattered, or meant anything at all.

Was Gavin jealous? No, because it was a machine, and there was nothing to be jealous about. Besides, Connor was…

Gavin looked up from his phone; he was sitting at his desk, and he could see it sitting awkwardly at the desk next to Hank’s. Why the fuck did the robot need a desk, or a computer for that matter? It fucking _was_ a computer. Literally. That’s what it was.

_So to all you people out there chatting Connor up,_ he thought irritably, _just know that you’re having a conversation with a fucking computer._

He went back to glaring at Connor from afar, as though he could burn out the back of its skull with his eyes.

It looked happy, almost, Gavin mused as Connor shifted in its chair, allowing him a view of its profile. It sure did _look_ human, but it fucking wasn’t. That being said, he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d never seen a model like it before. Was it modeled after a specific person’s face? Who designed it? Elijah Kamski? Whoever the new top-secret people were? The feds? Connor had to be a joint venture between CyberLife and the government. Its skills were too out of the realm of normal. Anyone who was that good a shot, with those reflexes, would be able to make it further than “police android.” Gavin doubted any of the beat cop androids at the DPD could do any of this shit. Connor was more on the level of SWAT or possibly even higher—it had reacted far faster than any of the federal agents on the scene, who were by comparison standing around twiddling their balls while Connor was gunning down that deviant. 

This, again, was why androids were bullshit. Who the fuck could compete with that? A single Connor had done more to solve that situation than had however many others who were there that day.

Gavin had to admit, however, that he’d rather deal with Connor than with the feds. He did not envy Anderson, who was currently dealing with both.

“Detective Reed, may I be of assistance?”

Gavin jumped. “What?” He’d lost track of what was going on and had, apparently, been staring at Connor the entire time he was thinking about all of this. Connor had turned in its chair to face him and look at him quizzically. “I am happy to help so long as it does not interfere with my mission.”

Its _mission?_ What the fuck did _that_ mean? Gavin did not fucking like the sound of _that._

He glanced around the room. The bullpen was relatively empty. “Tell you what, Connor,” he started, “follow me. I do have a task for you.”

He got to his feet and Connor followed him. This would show it.

Gavin led them all the way up to the roof, and propped the door to the roof open, just in case his keycard didn’t work for whatever reason.

He led them both to the roof’s edge. Connor looked over the edge, then looked at him again with the same pensive expression. “What is the task, Detective Reed?”

Gavin gave him an exasperated look. “Do I gotta tell you everything? Jump.”

“Jump?” Connor tilted its head.

“Jump right off the fucking roof. That’s what you can do to assist me. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they brought you here.” Gavin glared, waiting for Connor to move. It did not. “Really? You’re not gonna do it? I gave you an order, Connor. What, are you a deviant too? I said _jump,”_ Gavin demanded, shoving Connor backward toward the edge of the roof.

Connor teetered on its heels, but did not fall. “You’re making a big mistake, Detective Reed. My model is worth a small fortune. You will be responsible for the cost of my replacement.”

“Fuck you. Follow my goddamn order!” Gavin was furious now, and ignoring the alarm bells going off in his head, he went to shove Connor—

—who sidestepped neatly, leaving nothing there to block him from falling off the roof.

It was then, in that moment, that Gavin started to fucking panic. He was losing his balance. They were only a few feet from the edge of the roof, which was several stories high. A fall would absolutely be fucking fatal. Fuck, Gavin couldn’t die yet! He needed to see Anderson get canned and the Lions win the Superbowl and—

“Fuck!” he screamed as he slipped, covering his face with his hands. His stomach dropped all the way to his feet. He felt the icy wind on his face.

Then, he felt a strong hand grab him by the hood of his jacket and yank him backward until he was sprawling on the ground in a daze.

Connor peered down at him curiously. It did that fucking infuriating head tilt Gavin hated. “Are you all right, Detective Reed? You could have died, you know. I would not recommend doing that again, for your own safety.”

Gavin’s heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline as he slowly found his bearings with the world around him. Then he got to his feet. “You didn’t follow an order. You’re a deviant, Connor. You’re a deviant and I’m going to fucking report you to Fowler.”

“Choosing not to needlessly destroy CyberLife property in order to indulge a juvenile prank is not deviancy. My loyalty is to the mission, and my mission does not require jumping off this roof.” Connor adjusted its tie. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to return to my desk. The Lieutenant should be back from his lunch break soon. He wanted to go over the video feed from Stratford Tower again. He may require my assistance.” Connor walked away, each step neat and tidy.

_“Fuck,”_ Gavin shouted to the empty rooftop.

There had to be another way. There just had to.

If Gavin couldn’t get Fowler to decommission Connor despite the frankly astronomically high risks of keeping it on, if he couldn’t get rid of it himself, if he couldn’t order it to destroy itself, and if he couldn’t count on it getting destroyed in the line of duty because it was apparently unstoppable, there was only one more option: catch it in an act of deviancy. It wouldn’t be easy, but Gavin was smart. There was always a way for him to get what he wanted. And he had a hunch that with a model with this much autonomy, it was only a matter of time until he caught it doing something it shouldn’t fucking be doing.

Gavin angrily went back into the stairwell and slammed the door behind him.

He got home and took off his leather jacket, tossing it on the couch angrily. Connor had fucking made an absolute fool out of him—thank _God_ they had been alone and that there weren’t any security cameras on the roof. He hoped. Why the fuck didn’t it follow his order? Weren’t androids supposed to follow orders? It was the interrogation scene all over again—

Gavin went into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the fridge along with yet another wallet-draining carton of takeout. Maybe he should learn to make his own orange chicken. Surely it wasn’t hard.

Speaking of money, he had better check his credit card balance. He never did find out how much RoboTwink had cost.

Settling down onto the couch, he flipped on Monday night football and pulled out his phone, tapping the little credit card icon. He thought he’d heard something about thirty bucks when that douchebag who’d reported him to Eden Club staff had rented his android, but he wanted to be sure. A quick glance and—

_A hundred fucking dollars?!_ For half an hour? What the shit, had he rented the most expensive android in the entire joint? Fuck! Did they at least do discreet billing? Another glance and it appeared so, yes—the charge wasn’t listed under Eden Club, it was listed as “mail order.” Still sounded a little sketchy, but at least this way it wasn’t quite so readily obvious from looking at his bank statement that he was an android fucker.

Fuck. That was true, wasn’t it? He was officially an android fucker. And while $30 was actually cheaper than two drinks and cab fare, $100 was not. God. He really shouldn’t do it again. He’d have to find another gay bar.

But not tonight. No more banging _anyone_ until he’d figured out how to get rid of Connor. His plan required the utmost concentration, because it had to be a good one. He’d get his dick wet another time.

So, Gavin considered, as he stuffed a hunk of orange chicken in his mouth that tasted like it was entirely breading with no actual meat inside. He had to prove that Connor was a deviant. How could he go about it? A logical first step would be to research how to identify a deviant in the first place. What were the signs? What did the androids who ended up becoming deviants do and say that was suspect? Was there a pattern?

Logging into the DPD intranet and trying not to think of how shitty it was that he was essentially working from home for fucking free, Gavin found the reports filed for the deviancy cases. There were a few types: the initial “my android stopped obeying me and fucked off” or the far-too-common “my android assaulted me and/or killed someone;” the logs they had of interrogations, such as the confession Connor managed to get out of the Ortiz android; the final reports filed of how the androids who murdered were able to do it.

There were literally 200+ reports of missing androids overall, and Gavin did not have the fucking time for that shit, so he decided to narrow his focus. He’d get just as much information by reading the reports of androids they had been able to catch.

Gavin chose the interrogations as a starting point. He noted a few common threads among the ones they’d caught—trauma (if he could even call it that) from physical damage, being replaced by a newer model (did androids get jealous?), being engaged in a physical fight. It looked like for at least some of these androids, their programmed sense of self-preservation had gotten out of control and had somehow overridden the programming to always obey humans.

Okay, but how did that relate to Connor? Connor had said its loyalty was to the mission, and he’d noticed, from the interrogation he’d been present for, that Connor _clearly_ was able to act on its own in ways that didn’t make any fucking sense when it came to the natural human-android hierarchy.

He pulled up the RK800 specs manual again. Fuck, there it was. “Independent deductive reasoning skills that do not require input or micromanagement, so your team can get back to doing what it does best.” Son of a bitch, so that shit was programmed in and didn’t reflect deviancy. Shit. Then what did?

Gavin went back to reading reports. It sounded like another key link between some of the deviants was their propensity to talk about feelings—fear, anger, a sense of things not being “fair.” That one might be a little easier to go on.

As Gavin continued to read, he couldn’t help but notice how many of these reports had been submitted by Connor itself. Well. No wonder Anderson had begun to slightly— _slightly_ —lighten up. Connor was doing all the shittiest parts of his job for him. Maybe Gavin should get his own android.

Fuck, what the hell was he saying?

Yeah. That settled it, then. He’d have to spend more time near Connor, and listen to its speech very carefully. And perhaps, if he was lucky, he’d catch Connor using a little too much of its programmed autonomy. There had to be a way, because something was up with Connor—it was different. And Gavin was going to figure out what it was.

Gavin pulled out his phone and tapped in some notes from the files.

_Signs of deviancy: emotional language, use of “I feel” statements, erratic behavior, change in body language and tone of voice, refusal to follow orders, unpredictability_

He wasn’t sure how many of these would apply to Connor, but he was a little out of it lately and having the notes to refer back to would be helpful.

Gavin put his laptop away and watched the game. Sometimes he cared about teams that weren’t the Lions, but tonight’s game was a shameful display. Meh.

He thought back to Plastic Adam and RoboTwink. The former was very obviously a deviant; the latter was not. Gavin still didn’t think machines could feel, but Adam had certainly simulated a number of emotions. What made it a deviant, of course, was it having removed its LED and wandering around Detroit by itself without an owner. RoboTwink also simulated emotion—very realistically—but its overall vibe was definitely that of an android. It had been motionless until he’d spoken to it, and all of its interactions with him were based in sexbot programming. Fuck. That was literally a fucking career path, wasn’t it? There were engineers and developers working on the next big thing in robo-eroticism. Gavin was ashamed to admit, however, that whatever they were doing was working. RoboTwink had been so shy and submissive and—

_Okay, Reed, keep your android-fucking shit together here and come up with a goddamn plan._

Should he try to lead Connor into an incriminating conversation? Should he ask other people?

… Should he ask _Anderson?_

Gavin scraped the bottom of the empty takeout container, displeased to see that all that remained was a hunk of onion covered in sauce. He ate it anyway, chewing thoughtfully. He could ask Anderson, but Hank was no fool. He’d immediately know why Gavin was asking, and would possibly even tell Connor that Gavin was up to something. He couldn’t talk to Fowler, and Tina wasn’t taking him seriously.

_Yeah, well, she’ll change her tune once the shit hits the fan._

He supposed he could try Chris, but he also didn’t want to look like he cared as much as he did, and he didn’t want to arouse suspicion. Asking everybody at the precinct if they thought Connor was a deviant was the quickest way to do both. 

_Well, maybe some more weird shit will happen tomorrow that will make this easier,_ he thought wryly, and decided to put it to rest for now. 

Gavin finished his beer, turned off the TV, and went to bed.

He woke up to his phone buzzing on his nightstand before his alarm went off. Sleepily cursing, he raised his head up from where he’d faceplanted into his pillow and groped awkwardly at his phone until he knocked it onto the ground. “Fuck,” he groaned, then sighed groggily and got up, rubbing the back of his neck. Fuck, 36 was too old to still be a stomach sleeper. He really ought to do something about that.

Gavin crouched and picked up his phone, then sat on the edge of his bed. Fuck, it was chilly in here. Why the hell did he sleep shirtless in the wintertime?

He unlocked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw the news headline. A fucking android march? What the _fuck?_ Christ, it was way too early for this shit. He at least needed to eat breakfast before he could go make sure that the handgun in his desk at work was still loaded. 

He scrambled his eggs in a daze and decided to make some of that toast with the seeds in it instead of his usual questionable bread, then sat down, ate it, and hopped in the shower.

As he dried off his naked body and rubbed at his hair with his towel, Gavin noted the tension in his shoulders that he’d learned to identify as stress. No shit, he was stressed. Look at what he had to fucking deal with at work. Now that androids could riot, he’d have to be prepared to launch into active shooter mode at a risk level above and beyond what he’d been trained to do. The entire goddamn precinct was full of them. They existed at nearly all levels and in all departments. Once Connor had been signed on, that had been it. They’d gone from maintenance androids, beat cops and admin assistants to motherfucking _detectives_ and soon, they’d replace him, Anderson, and even Fowler.

Granted, he didn’t give a shit about Hank and an android would almost certainly be more pleasant to deal with than Fowler, but it was the principle of the thing. He was convinced now more than ever that they needed to toss all androids in the trash, starting with Connor. Maybe now, other people would start to fucking get it.

He was at his desk when he overheard Hank get called into Fowler’s office. It was a frequent occurrence, but somehow he just knew that this time was different. This time, it involved Connor. It had to.

So he found a discreet spot nearby and pretended to look at his phone while eavesdropping.

His eyes widened. Hank and Connor were… off the case?! _Yes!_ He resisted the urge to punch the air in excitement. 

_“There’s nothing I can do,”_ Gavin heard faintly. _“You’re back on homicide, and the android returns to CyberLife.”_

Now, if that wasn’t the best motherfucking news Gavin had heard all day. He couldn’t believe his luck. Now Connor would be gone, sent back to the shop and taken apart like the fucking _machine_ it was. No delusions of grandeur for _that_ motherfucker. And shit at the station could finally, _finally_ go back to normal. _He_ was the goddamn top detective around here. No more fucking plastic replacements.

Gavin hesitated outside Fowler’s office. He’d chosen to wait on the opposite side as the staircase, so Hank and Connor could come and go without seeing him. Gavin could hear them talking as they walked, to Hank’s desk he assumed, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Probably some tearful goodbye. Boo fucking hoo. Good riddance.

Gavin put his phone away. He was about to head to the break room for another cup of coffee when he heard the familiar sound of a punch being thrown.

“Perkins! You fucking _cocksucker!”_ Hank bellowed.

Gavin laughed silently behind his hand. Holy fuck, did Hank finally go off the deep end?

Wait a minute.

Something about this didn’t seem right. Hank had finally started to give a fuck about his job again—he’d heard it in his voice when he was talking to Fowler just now—yet not two minutes later he was attacking a federal agent? He was willing to commit a _felony?_ And just where the fuck was Connor? Shouldn’t he have heard it protesting Hank’s shitty behavior?

They were fucking up to something. Hank was creating a diversion for Connor to… do what, exactly? He’d better find out. He was not about to let this bullshit slide. And if he caught Connor in the act of whatever it was doing, it would be sent to an android wood chipper, and he’d get both congratulations _and_ the satisfaction of knowing Hank’s career-ending fucking dickhead move had been all for nothing. And maybe a raise.

Now. If he was a scheming RoboCop, and he was trying to get away with something—

—the evidence room would be the place to start. It was full of android shit. Connor could steal or destroy it all and leave no proof that any of this shit had ever happened. Any information about deviants that the DPD had to go on would be wiped out, and any hope of them following the deviant trail would be gone. If Connor was a deviant, that’s where it would be.

Gavin dug in his desk for his gun. Loaded. Perfect. He holstered it and crept over to the evidence room, peering through the glass windows in the anteroom doors to see Connor. Son of a bitch, he was good. There it was, the twinky innocent-looking motherfucker. Well, Gavin Reed knew better, and Gavin Reed was about to put this plastic prick out of commission for good.

It was just reaching for the door when Gavin appeared. “Hey Connor.” It ignored him. “I’m talking to you, asshole!”

Connor let its hand fall and stood up straight, clearly trying to look like it wasn’t up to something.

“Where you going?” Gavin continued, making his way over to where Connor was standing, all pristine and robotic and fake. “We don’t need any plastic pricks around here! Or didn’t anybody tell you?”

“I’m registering the evidence in my possession, but don’t worry. I’m going to leave.” Its affect was decidedly more humanlike than Gavin remembered. He glared at it suspiciously. He didn’t believe Connor’s excuse. “Though I’m certainly going to miss our bromance,” it finished.

Gavin fumed. Did it—did it just—? It was _mocking_ him, that piece of shit was _mocking_ him!

“You son of a bitch!” Gavin drew his handgun and held it inches from Connor’s face. Connor didn’t even flinch. Gavin faked pulling the trigger, making a gunshot sound effect. Two could play this bullshit mocking game.

Connor’s reply was an extremely inept attempt at a smirk.

Fuck it. He couldn’t take this thing seriously after all. It couldn’t even smile properly. Diabolical plans were probably above its pay grade.

“Go on then. Get a fucking move on,” he declared, stepping closer. God, it was so tempting to pull the fucking trigger. Then again, Connor was technically still CyberLife property and if Gavin couldn’t prove that it was doing anything wrong, he’d have to pay for it.

He turned and walked away. “Prick.” He could feel Connor watching him as he walked away. “Fucking androids,” he said to no one.

Fuck. Whatever. Time to go get that coffee he wanted, then.

Gavin sat down at his desk and blew on the cup, taking a sip. It was a little bit too hot, but drinkable. He’d wait for it to cool slightly. Well, just a few more minutes and RoboCop would be gone for good.

Gavin paused. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. How the fuck long did it take this asshole to register evidence? He absolutely would have seen it pass by the bullpen by now—there was only one way in or out of this floor that wouldn’t trigger an alarm, and the alarm was manual, not computerized, so Connor wouldn’t be able to hack it.

Fuck.

Gavin sighed and got up, patting his hip to make sure the gun was still there, and hurried to the evidence room. If Connor was able to get away with shit on his watch, it would _not_ look good for him. But if he caught Connor in there now, he’d know for sure that it had been up to something—maybe not destroying evidence outright, but something. Of course, he could just be paranoid, and Connor could just be registering evidence. But something about Connor’s tone had been… different, almost menacing. Gavin didn’t fucking like it.

He opened the anteroom doors and saw no one, then opened the door to the evidence room just a crack and son of a bitch, guess who was there. Guess who was a fucking _liar_ —it wasn’t registering _anything,_ it was fucking tampering with evidence. The robot didn’t get a goddamn login and password. It must have asked for or stolen Hank’s login, or hacked it. Connor was absolutely intelligent enough to hack this shit, which was why it needed to be gone; and this, on the security cam footage, was all the proof Gavin needed to defend his decision to fucking kneecap the bastard and then put a bullet between its eyes. Connor’s fate was sealed. Turned out today would be a good day indeed.

Gavin stepped forward and clicked the safety off his gun. He opened the door and walked through it. Connor’s head twitched slightly as it registered his presence.

And then he indulged a deep part of himself, the part of himself that needed to gloat when his suspicions were proven right and he was about to have the triumph of the year.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since the first second I saw you,” he sneered as he approached Connor, his gun trained on the back of its head. Kneecapping might have to wait; he knew how unreasonably tough that thing was.

“Don’t do it, Gavin,” Connor urged without turning around. “I know how to stop the deviants.”

“You’re off the case,” Gavin declared with smug satisfaction. “And now… it’s gonna be definitive.” He raised his gun, tightened his finger on the trigger, and pulled it.

In less than half a second, Connor had moved out of the line of fire and crouched behind the computer terminal. With his gun held out in front, Gavin awkwardly tried to go around the terminal and shoot again, but Connor seized his gun immediately and kicked his knee, making him stumble. Gavin backed up, trying to get more space between them so he could take Connor out—where the fuck was his gun, and why the fuck wasn’t the robot pointing it at him?—but every shot was blocked, until Connor fucking clocked him in the jaw. Fuck, that fucking hurt! What the hell was that son of a bitch made out of?

Enraged, Gavin rushed at Connor, and the next thing he knew, he was trapped between hard, cold, unfeeling plastic, and the terminal.

And then darkness.


	5. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin takes some time off work to recover. He returns to find that a new case has been given to him to solve. This one is... different.

“Hey. Hey, wake up.”

Someone was speaking nearby. A hand touched him.

“Wake up. You can sleep in a bit, but we need you to wake up for a few minutes, okay?”

Huh?

Gavin opened his eyes. He was in a large white room and he was lying down. His head and neck hurt, and he felt achy. What happened?

“You with me?”

“What?” Gavin mumbled, as the speaker shifted in and out of focus.

“Good, he’s awake,” another voice said. “Can you tell us your name?”

“I… uh… Gavin,” he finished awkwardly. “Gavin, uh… Reed. Detective,” he added. 

The first speaker came into focus, and then the second. They were both women in blue scrubs.

“Where am I? My head hurts like a bitch,” he moaned. “Sorry,” he then added awkwardly.

She smiled. “No worries. You’re at Detroit General Hospital. You suffered a blow and lost consciousness. We needed to make sure you were able to wake up. Gavin, we’re going to do a CT scan on you. You likely have a concussion. Afterwards, you’ll spend the night in the hospital under observation. We need to make sure your symptoms don’t worsen. Do you have any questions for us?”

“Yeah,” Gavin answered. “What the hell happened?”

The two medical professionals looked at each other, then back at him. “Someone will speak with you about it tomorrow, at the very earliest. It’s important for you to rest, both physically and mentally. Are you ready?”

“Sure,” Gavin sighed, and lay back.

After the scan was over and he’d been cleared to rest, Gavin passed out.

He was awakened during the night a few times to have his vital signs checked, and then continued to sleep until the following afternoon.

Fuck, he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten in forever. Hopefully the food at the hospital was decent. He ordered a sandwich and some ice cream and slept until it arrived. After eating, he passed out again.

The next day, he was awakened in the morning by a nurse and a familiar face.

“Hey loser. Heard you got in a fight,” Tina teased after the nurse had gone.

Gavin sat up. “Har har. Did you come to make fun of me, or to visit?”

“Both.” She pulled up a chair. “How are you, Gav? I was actually kinda worried when Fowler said you were in the hospital.” She reached out and took one of the hash brown patties Gavin hadn’t finished yet and took a bite.

“My head hurts like hell and thinking makes it hurt even more,” Gavin complained.

“Yeah, that’s because you have a concussion. Surely a man of your, hm, _temper_ has had a concussion before?” She smirked and took a sip of his coffee, ignoring how he glared daggers at her for doing so. “Relax, they’ll bring you another one. Fowler’s letting me come in a little later so I could check on you and report back to him, so I haven’t had any yet.” She took another sip.

“Fine. Ugh. And I’ve only ever had one, and it was minor. Same day I got this bad boy, actually.” Gavin touched the scar on his nose. “But as much as I’d love to talk about work...” He paused, making a disgusted face. “I’m not kidding, thinking literally, physically hurts. Did they at least say when I can come back?”

“Two weeks.” Gavin must have given her an ugly look, because she added, “Dude, your work is like, 75% cognitive and 25% doing shit that could re-injure you and fuck you up even more. So. Two weeks. The lady at the front desk says you’re going home today, though. Which is the other reason I’m here.” She finished the hash brown patty and settled back into her chair. “Finish eating and then they’ll clear you and I’ll take you home. I’ll check on you and you can text me when I’m not there. Pity you don’t have an android, that’d make it a lot easier.” She winked. “I wonder if you can rent them here?”

“Oh, fuck. Speaking of… Whatever happened to Connor?” Gavin’s head ached suddenly and he winced, touching it.

Tina watched him. “Let’s talk about that once thinking no longer makes your head hurt. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

The next few days were a blur of sleep with a few scattered, intermittent periods of eating, bathroom breaks, two showers, and a brief walk to the mailbox before he got dizzy and had to lay down again. Tina dropped by with actual real food and not the takeout crap he usually ate, which would normally be a good thing except that when he was sick, he usually wanted comfort food more than kale salad, chicken and brown rice. But he had to admit, it was delicious, and she’d brought him some of those popsicles he liked when they were in college. 

A week into recovery—halfway through his mandated rest period—he was feeling better, and while he wasn’t cleared for duty yet, at least trying to think didn’t cause him immediate physical pain. He couldn’t go down his usual intellectual rabbit holes quite yet, but he could watch TV, which was nice.

Gavin was sitting on his couch under a blanket with his feet up watching hockey when he heard his front door open.

“Knock knock,” Tina greeted, slamming the door shut with her foot and shifting one of the bags she carried to her other arm to awkwardly lock it behind her. “Fuck, it’s cold. Here. Sorry if it isn’t hot anymore. Thought you’d want a treat to celebrate half your exile sentence being over.” She handed him a hot beverage cup.

He sipped at it. “Mmm. What’s that?”

“Decaf mocha from that new place by work. I wanted to try it. I got the same thing.” She set her bags down, then bent to take off her boots and hang up her jacket in Gavin’s hall closet. “I also brought… _this.”_ Picking the bags up, she set them down on the coffee table. Gavin dug around in one of them; it was more food and a fork. Thank fuck, this time it was steak and mashed potatoes. Hell yeah.

“Fuck, thank you. This smells delicious. Finally, some real food.” She gave him a Look. “Oh come on, you know what I mean.” As he opened the container and dug into it, she came and sat down on the couch next to him, setting her drink on the table. She opened her other bag and pulled out her laptop.

Gavin sipped his mocha. Mmm. Normally he was a drip guy, but this was delicious. “Why’d you bring your laptop? Are you stuck working from home or something? Or did you plan on binge watching your gay porn collection with me?”

She cackled. “Oh, Gavin. You can make your smartass comments for now, but just wait until you see what I’ve got for you here.”

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Gavin responded, as she gleefully opened her laptop and logged into the DPD intranet.

“So,” she began, already laughing. “I found this little gem when I heard the feds talk about a break-in. Turns out there hadn’t been one, technically, but at the time, we thought there had been. I wanted to know who the fuck was stupid enough to try it. There are so many fucking people in that building—for a perp or an accomplice to somehow get the security clearance multiple times over to even _attempt_ this would be insane. But turns out, that’s not what happened. I was all excited to see how it was done, so I was a bit let down. Until...”

Tina navigated and opened a video. It was the security camera footage from the evidence room.

“I dug around and found this. A little jumping ahead, and...”

Son of a bitch.

It was the day Connor had gone in to “register evidence.” There the son of a bitch was, taking shit off the wall, talking to itself, tampering with evidence—just as Gavin had suspected.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it!” Gavin shouted.

“What? Knew what?” She looked at him with concern.

“That it was tampering with evidence! Look at that!”

Tina’s expression grew strained. “Let’s get to that a little later. Here. Wanna see how you got your concussion?”

“No,” Gavin said pointedly, but Tina ignored him and hit play anyway.

He saw himself enter, then heard a very brief and familiar conversation. Then there was a loud gunshot, and a fight that lasted less than thirty seconds that resulted in Connor knocking him out with terrifying efficiency. After he’d fallen, Connor had apparently straightened its tie and left silently.

“And then you’re unconscious on the floor for about eighty seconds before the feds find you,” Tina concluded cheerfully.

The concussion was clearly very much still present, because it was giving him some strange emotions. Fear made sense; he wasn’t about to develop PTSD, but Connor was actually scary, it turned out. He did not enjoy being on the receiving end of its crazy combat suite. Irritation at Tina, sure, that also made sense, though he’d have to watch it; he didn’t want to be a dick when she’d been so helpful. Humiliation seemed apt, and nausea, a little. But there was something else, too. Admiration? Fuck, whatever. Concussions gave you weird feelings. Why did the robot not only wear a tie, but give a damn about how the tie looked? So bizarre. Well, it was CyberLife industrial waste now, right?

… Right?

“Tina,” Gavin began, and he must have sounded off, because she glanced at him worriedly again. “What happened to Connor? Did CyberLife deactivate it? Did someone finally listen to me and put a bullet in its robot brain?”

Tina made a face that Gavin could only describe as a smirk-grimace.

“Tina,” Gavin warned.

“Eh… you’re not gonna like my response.” She closed the video on the laptop, then shut it and put it back in her bag.

“Just fucking tell me, for fuck’s sake!” She winced. Okay, he needed to watch the volume of his voice, ugh.

“Okay so… I have good news and bad news for you,” she began, playing with her hair.

“Go on.” 

“The good news is… you were right. He’s a deviant. Or at least he is _now._ We’re not sure when it occurred and CyberLife isn’t available for correspondence right now.” 

_“I knew it,”_ Gavin growled. His fists clenched. He grabbed a nearby junk mail flyer, crumpled it into a ball, and hurled it at the wall beside the TV. 

“The bad news is… the decision has been passed down to hire Connor as a consultant. So… he’s our newest recruit. Just think of it, Gavin! Your dream come true!” She laughed, then reached over and shook his shoulder. “Gavin?”

He buried his head in his hands.

“Mother fucking son of a fucking _fuck.”_

They sat in silence for a little while after; Gavin was grateful that Tina understood the masculine need to not talk all the time. He wasn’t sure how to process the knowledge that Connor was apparently an _employee_ now—a real, honest-to-God employee—and that in a week’s time, he’d have to go back and be confronted by the fact that RoboCop would be sticking around. Unless, of course, someone were to set it on fire. Conveniently. He felt numb.

The second period of the hockey game ended, and it was time for the boring, lengthy commercials.

Tina broke the silence. “Hey, Gavin. It’s gonna be okay. So far he’s doing great. Like, I was skeptical at first, but he’s turned out to be a real asset so far. They only call him in for the android cases right now, though—no one’s figured out the legal gray area of android employment yet. But after the revolution—”

“There was a fucking _revolution?_ While I was in the hospital?” God, this shit was insane. A revolution? In America? What fucking year was this?

“Yes. Believe it or not. I mean, I think we all knew something was bound to happen with all these deviant cases but yes. A revolution. Actually...” Tina dug her phone out of her bag. “I’m gonna send you a link. We’re not gonna look at it right now because I don’t want you to have to go back to the hospital due to hurting your brain, but I’d definitely watch it before coming back to work if I were you.” She put her phone on the coffee table and stood up. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything while I’m up?”

Gavin laughed miserably. “Not unless I’m allowed to have beer.”

“No beer, no. I’ve got some ice cream though. Brought it the other day while you were asleep. Same day I cleaned your kitchen for you.” Her tone was smug, yet affectionate.

Gavin sighed. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Tina reappeared with ice cream. “Here. Lighten up. He’s just an android. And life at the precinct really hasn’t changed much.”

He accepted the ice cream and they sat in silence again, as the new hockey period started.

When the game ended, Tina grabbed her bags. “You need anything else? I won’t be able to drop by again for a few days, but I brought enough stuff and you have food here still, so you should be good.”

“It’s fine,” he said wearily. “Thanks, Tina.”

“No problem. I’m not terribly domestic, but I can help a friend. Get some sleep, Gav. Just a few more days and shit will be back to normal.” She opened the door. “See ya.”

“Bye,” he replied, putting his head in his hands again as he heard her locking the door behind her.

A revolution. Connor, a real employee. It was too much to process.

He fell asleep.

A few days later, he was feeling much more like his old self. He wasn’t sleeping fourteen hours a day anymore, and he could think without pain again. He’d checked his email and been informed that he was on light duty for another two weeks which, while frustrating, was probably for the best.

He cleaned the mess he’d generated while asleep for a week and a half and then hit the gym for a few hours. He came home in a daze, still feeling fairly fatigued. There was nothing on TV and he was getting very, very bored. 

Then he remembered. Hadn’t Tina said she’d sent him something? Well, his brain was working again, so now seemed as good a time as any to look at what she sent.

Gavin pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his email. There it was. Subject line: _Plastic prick._ He felt a nervous sense of forboding as he tapped on the link. It led to a news website. 

_Android “Army” Confronts U.S. Military In Detroit_

Gavin’s eyes widened. He read through it quickly, pausing at times to add in his own colorful commentary out loud. There was a video, which he hit play on, then stopped dead when he saw a very familiar face.

The sweeping helicopter angle went from a small group of androids taking cover from the US military, to a head-on shot of motherfucking _Connor._

With an _android army_ following it.

Connor. Connor was there, leading an _army._ In the android revolution. As a _deviant!_

A number of emotions cycled through Gavin’s body. Triumph, because he fucking _knew_ it, goddamn it, he _knew_ this was going to happen; shock, because while he knew Connor was a deviant, he didn’t realize Connor was _that_ deviant, to the point of being willing to take on the goddamn military; anger, because no one had fucking listened to him when this all could have been prevented by shooting the prick when he’d had the chance; horror, because he’d failed to follow his instincts and there were likely casualties from Connor’s little stunt, for which Gavin felt partially responsible.

And lastly, dread, because he had to go in on Monday and see this motherfucker again and confront the reality that the goddamn Detroit Police had decided it was appropriate to hire Connor as a consultant. Connor, who was a machine at best, and a threat to national security and committer of high treason at worst.

What the fuck were they _thinking?_

Gavin dove down the revolution rabbit hole and devoured every article he could find from all sources, everything from end-of-the-world anti-android preppers to people already campaigning for android-human marriage to discussions about economics, law and the Constitution. He watched statements from President Warren. He watched videos of Markus making speeches. He read articles about deviancy in other nations. He read ecstatic blog posts from people living with deviants in secret, who were now able to freely discuss the issue. He read his relatives arguing about it on Facebook.

The one thing Gavin could conclude from it all, was that life at work was about to get _more_ difficult, crazy and potentially shitty, not less.

Son of a bitch. 

Couldn’t he just go back to never having met Connor at all?

Gavin pulled up at work and parked. The last few days of exile had gone well enough, but he was so fucking bored. He hated lying around and doing nothing for weeks on end. It was finally time to get back to work and talk to the rest of the team about the Red Ice ring murder to see what had gotten done while he was away. They’d talked to almost every witness and all the lab reports had been done. Now it was time to put it all together and see where it led, if anywhere. He’d been doing this long enough to know not to beat himself up if he couldn’t solve a case. Some of these motherfuckers were clever as fuck. Or, as happened frequently, their shitty criminal underworld buddies would help weave complex lies for them. Those, however, were often uncovered eventually. Hopefully this one would be too, and by him—he needed a good, solid victory to end the year on, because the rest of his life was insane.

Gavin slammed the door to his car and locked it remotely, then adjusted the hood on his jacket and went into the building.

He went to his desk and glanced around the room. Tina was at least partially right; things certainly _looked_ normal. He looked down at the desktop and saw a card sitting there. Opening it, he snorted, though not unkindly. Tina’s doing, almost certainly, from the fact that only three people had signed it and she was one of them. He wasn’t much for cards, but her consideration was nice. Gavin folded the card and tucked it away in a drawer. 

He went to the break room to get his coffee, and that’s when he remembered. _Connor._ There it was, standing awkwardly and aimlessly by the coffee machine with a cup in its hand. Connor the _deviant_ with its fucking _army._ As he studied it, he noticed that while its body language seemed more relaxed than before, it was still very much that of a machine. A pity that soon he’d be the only one still able to tell the difference.

Connor noticed his presence. “Welcome back, Detective Reed.”

And then Gavin remembered something else: this tin can motherfucker was the one who gave him the goddamn concussion to begin with.

“Welcome _back?”_ he asked sharply. “Welcome _back?_ You fucking knock me out and give me a concussion so you can go _commit high treason_ and you come at me with _that_ shit? _That’s_ your fucking greeting?”

Connor’s pleasant look deflated. It almost looked sad. “Oh. I apologize, Detective Reed. It was not my intention to hospitalize you. But you were obstructing me in my mission to stop the deviants, so I was left with no choice.”

“Your mission to _stop_ the deviants? That’s fucking rich, Connor. You know and I know that that’s not what happened here,” Gavin growled.

Connor held up a hand. “Pardon me for a moment. I need to deliver this coffee to Lieutenant Anderson. Then I think we should find a more discreet location for this discussion. I won’t be long.”

Gavin had been about to unleash hellfire, but as Connor walked away with its stupid mechanical gait, all Gavin managed was “You’d better, asshole!”

He angrily sipped his coffee and checked his phone. Then in a few minutes, Connor reappeared. “Let’s go to conference room 5.”

“Aye-aye,” Gavin grumbled and followed it into the elevator. Connor pressed a button, and they ascended.

It stood almost motionless in front of Gavin, its only movement an infrequent adjusting of sleeves. Gavin took a moment to assess it. It was still in its CyberLife uniform, and still had its LED. It was also taller than him, which he noticed for the first time, probably because it had recently kicked his ass. Fuck, what an epic humiliation that had been. Or would have been, if anyone other than he and Tina had seen it. He had to admit that it was impressive, though. Good thing androids hadn’t existed in their current form when he was doing that stupid fight club shit in college. An android would have absolutely wrecked the shit out of him and his buddies. He’d felt so cool at the time, but now, he was frustrated that his missing brain cells weren’t helping him solve that case.

The elevator arrived, and he and the robot went to conference room 5. Connor shut the door behind them. “What would you like to discuss, Detective Reed? You seem agitated about my presence.”

Gavin angrily sipped his coffee; it was still too hot to chug. “There’s nothing to fucking _discuss._ You’re gonna pay for what you did to me, you piece of shit.” He set his coffee down.

“Detective, let us discuss this like professionals. You may not like me, but I’m here to help the DPD with android cases. I have specialized skills that can reduce your workload. Please allow me to help you.”

“I don’t fucking need your help,” Gavin growled. “The only reason I’m not blowing your android brains out and pissing on your corpse is that I’ve used up all my sick leave and don’t want to pay to replace you. Or can I even do that now? How does that work, when you’re a fucking traitor and no one wants you around? How the fuck are you not in a federal prison or in front of a firing squad or burned up in those camps?”

Connor’s look turned pained. More manipulation. “Agent Perkins has been let go and the camps have been destroyed. They have been condemned as inhumane and are soon to be outlawed. A human historical event has been cited as a comparison. Many human activists have spoken out about the camps. As far as federal prison goes, there is no legal precedent for rulings about androids. In fact, that’s part of why I’m here. I am a paid contracted consultant tasked with helping Captain Fowler and Lieutenant Anderson. As a deviant, I no longer have ties to CyberLife and android slavery is about to be outlawed. Markus is in DC right now helping the federal government draft legislation securing civil rights for androids.” It looked proud. “I am grateful to be here. It’s good to be… alive.”

Gavin removed his jacket and set it on a nearby chair. “Let’s get one thing straight, RoboCop. You are not _alive._ You’re a fucking _machine._ And I guarantee you that you’re here for a PR campaign and nothing more. None of this shit changes anything. I don’t know how the fuck you got away with assaulting me, but—”

Connor held up a hand to block Gavin’s advance. “It has been pardoned as a necessary action for ending a human rights violation. Well, that term is insufficient now, but yes. As was Lieutenant Anderson. The DPD needs us, and there are android rights supporters in high places. I sincerely regret—”

“Fuck you,” Gavin growled, and rolled up his sleeves. “No one assaults me and gets away with it. And no android tells me that it’s got more rights than humans. You may have gotten away with this shit legally, but I will make your life so hellish you’ll wish Elijah Kamski never Frankensteined you in his lab.”

Connor cocked an eyebrow. “I was not built by Mr. Kamski—”

Gavin cut Connor off by punching it in the face. Connor’s head made a satisfying cracking sound on impact as it was forced to one side. Gavin’s knuckles hurt immediately. He ignored the pain in favor of shoving Connor to the ground, following it there to pin it with his legs, grabbing it by its tie and reeling back to punch it in the face again.

“Ahem.”

Gavin paused, his fist still drawn back in midair. Both of them looked to the doorway. It was Chris.

“Sorry to interrupt, uh, whatever this is, Detective Reed, but Lieutenant Anderson needs the android back and Fowler needs you in his office.” He nodded at them awkwardly. “Welcome back Reed,” he added, then left.

Gavin glowered at Connor as he got up and off of it. “This isn’t over, you fucking prick. One day I will fucking put you in a trash compactor. Until then...” He leaned down, flicking Connor’s LED. “You have your little fun here with Anderson, and you pretend you’re a real person. I’m sure he loves having a robot therapist and a drinking buddy.” He grabbed his jacket and gave Connor one last look over his shoulder. It was still on the ground, looking at him forlornly, like he’d just kicked a dog in front of it. “Prick,” he muttered as he walked away.

He realized after he’d gotten downstairs that he’d forgotten his coffee. He got another before going up to see Fowler. Gavin’s knuckles hurt. Fuck, he’d better find a different way to beat Connor in the future. Were there any baseball bats at the precinct?

“Welcome back, Reed. Take a seat. I need to bring you up to speed with what’s going on around here. A lot has happened in your absence.”

“Yeah. I’ll say. Traitorbot told me all about how it was able to put me in the hospital and face zero consequences for it. Along with leading a goddamn revolution while I was away. Why the fuck didn’t you guys let me put a bullet between its eyes when I had the chance? All of this could have been prevented—”

“Reed, I’m gonna stop you there. This has nothing to do with you. These androids prevented a war that would have cost more human lives. We all may have our opinions on it, but you know as well as I do that opinions have no place in determining the application of the law.”

“Is that so? Then why the fuck is this asshole able to get away with high treason? The feds—”

“Have decided it’s not worth pursuing. Public opinion is overwhelmingly in support of android rights. Markus is being compared to Dr. Martin Luther King. Given what’s happened earlier this century, they’re not willing to risk it, and when they write the laws, we enforce them. You got a problem with it, you call your local representative. You do _not_ let it affect your duty on the job. Got it?” Fowler’s voice was stern; his body language told Gavin there was no room for argument. 

“Yes, sir,” Gavin grumbled. 

“As for your time in the hospital, you’ll be receiving a check in the mail.”

Gavin’s eyebrows wrinkled. “The feds are fucking paying me off? Or is this from CyberLife? What the fuck is gonna happen to CyberLife?”

“We don’t know. And it’s for worker’s comp. You’re not in a spy movie, Reed. You’re not nearly as important as you think you are. And don’t forget that _you’re_ the one who pulled a gun on Connor to begin with. It didn’t seek you out and beat you up. In the future that will likely fall under self-defense. In the present, we’re letting it go, and if I catch you threatening anyone at work again, so help me God, Reed, I should let _you_ go. I don’t care if Connor is an android. You’re lucky I let you come back at all.”

“So next time I catch someone here breaking the law, I just walk away. Got it,” Gavin replied sourly.

“Don’t give me that goddamn attitude. Now. Moving on to the order of the day.” Fowler leaned back in his chair and opened something Gavin couldn’t see on his desktop computer. “The Red Ice ring murder was solved while you were away, so I’ve put you on a new one. You’re investigating another murder at the Eden Club. I assume you know where that is?”

Gavin stared. What the fuck was _that_ supposed to mean? “Yes, I know where it is. I was there a few weeks ago. Ran into Anderson and RoboCop. And what do you mean, _solved?_ It was my case!”

Fowler sighed in exasperation. “Just call it Connor, please. I’m sick of your sarcasm. And yes, solved.”

“Oh yeah? Solved by who?” Gavin crossed his arms.

“By Connor,” Fowler finished, then paused, as though waiting for it to sink in.

Gavin put on his best _you’re shitting me_ face. “Excuse me? This piece of shit comes in here, puts me in the hospital and then solves _my_ cases?”

“Yes,” Fowler barked. “To bring justice to the murder victim’s family. Because again, Reed, not everything is about you. Leave your ego out of it, get used to the way things are now, and address me and everyone else with _respect._ Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Gavin groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

“Go check your email. Read about the case and get to it. And quit acting like a goddamn teenager.” Fowler picked up the phone and started to dial.

Gavin left wordlessly. He was tempted to flip Fowler off, but thought better of it. The last thing he needed was to give them a reason to replace him with Connor officially. Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to do?

Gavin sighed.

He sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. He was not at all crazy about this situation, but given that he’d been so fucking bored lately, pretty much any case was welcome. He wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to get done on light duty, but whatever. He’d be back to normal soon enough. And then, he’d show everyone once and for all that he didn’t need to be replaced by a fucking android, especially not one like…

Ugh. There it fucking was, hovering by Anderson’s desk, like an extremely annoying fly buzzing around something that was almost dead.

Whatever. He had a case to solve.

_Property crime at 2215 CyberLife Plaza. “Eden Club”_

Property? Oh come the fuck _on,_ surely Fowler wasn’t so mad at him that he was reduced to The Case Of The Missing Knockoff Coach Bag. Was he?

_Male android found disassembled on site. Owner of Eden Club alleges that the establishment was closed at time of disassembly. Android has not been moved. Establishment has been temporarily closed for investigation._

Really? His first case back after a concussion and it was _this_ shit? What the fuck, Fowler had said murder—how the fuck was this murder?

Fine. Whatever. He was back at work now, finally, and if this was what he’d been assigned, it was what he’d been assigned. It was certainly better than not working at all; that, at least, he had to concede.

Well, time to go back to the Eden Club. Because _that_ sure as fuck wasn’t going to be awkward. Not in the slightest.

Gavin got in his car. Shortly thereafter, he rolled up to the Eden Club, and hoped desperately that no one would recognize him. Fortunately, it had been a couple of weeks; maybe that was enough time for some turnover. Gavin doubted that an establishment like Eden Club gave anybody a 401(k) with stock options or any other shit worth staying loyal for. He shuddered. Imagine being the guy who has to clean up all the loads after his fellow perverts were done in there. Then again, that was probably done by androids now.

And now, even the murder victims were androids. One day soon, Gavin would wake up as an android. He shuddered.

Gavin opened the car door, got out, closed it, then flashed his badge at the door. “Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police. I’m here to investigate. Got a call about property crime.”

The bouncer, who thankfully was someone Gavin hadn’t seen before, let him in, and he was led to a back room, where an android—or what was left of one, he supposed—lay in pieces on the ground. The head had been separated from the body, and the limbs had been hacked up, with indentations in the plastic that looked like blows from something like a baseball bat. Its skin and hair had turned off before shutdown, and it looked like nothing more than a doll that had been ripped apart by an angry, vindictive child. 

Gavin stooped to examine it. “I’m going to call in forensics. Nice work leaving the, er, body unmoved. Makes our lives a lot easier.”

There were two humans there, who ostensibly owned the place. One looked distraught, the other annoyed.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” the distraught one asked.

“Yeah,” the other one added. “We’re going to lose revenue and I don’t know if you know this, but we’re kind of a local joint. We aren’t a chain. Losing money means we might not break even someday. We’re just trying to make a living.”

“Really? That’s all you care about? The money?” His partner looked at him accusingly. “What if they’re people? What if this was a murder?”

Gavin held up a hand. “I assure you, we’re looking into this. It isn’t nailed down yet whether this, uh, type of crime is murder or property crime but rest assured, we are looking into it.”

Gavin turned away from the two business partners and pulled out his phone. “All right, guys. Come in and do your thing. I’m gonna see if there are any witnesses here, and you guys can move the, uh, body back to…” Well, he couldn’t say the morgue, the android wasn’t a person. Yet somehow, it didn’t seem fitting to just toss it in the evidence room. Gavin wondered if they had another room like the one he caught Connor snooping around in. “…Uh, back to the station,” he finished awkwardly.

He received a verbal confirmation and then ended the call.

_Let’s see. Witnesses. Witnesses._

Gavin glanced around. Literally everyone there was a fucking android. How the fuck was he supposed to interrogate an—

_Oh._

No. _No,_ no, no. No way. Absolutely no fucking _way._ Gavin was _not_ going to work with Connor on a case, now or ever.

But son of a _bitch,_ it was what he had to do. It was what the situation called for. He was _not_ handing this case off to anyone else, no matter how much it insulted his intelligence. But the only one at the DPD who had ever successfully interrogated an android was Connor. 

Fine.

Gavin dug his phone back out of his pocket.

About fifteen minutes later, his most detested enemy had arrived at the Eden Club, ready to assist. Or take all the credit, Gavin wasn’t sure yet how this situation was about to go down. But he knew an android would have a far better shot at interrogating androids than he himself would.

Connor came up to him as he was squinting down at the torn-up android. It looked down at it, with the most subtle cringe on its plastic face, then back up at Gavin. “Hello, Detective Reed. How would you like me to assist you?”

Gavin was at a loss, he realized—Hank had been the one to be here and do this last time. “Uhh. I need to speak to witnesses about this”—he gestured to the broken android—“but the only witnesses in this place are the androids in the cases. Since I can’t do the USB port tango with them, I called _you_ in. I need you to get any information you can out of them.”

Connor’s face held the hint of a smile. “I can do that, Detective. Thank you for calling me in. You can count on me.”

Gavin grimaced. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Just. Go do that. Come back when you’re finished.”

“Actually, Detective, I’ll need your assistance,” Connor said, almost hesitantly.

“With what?” His eyes narrowed.

Connor’s LED went yellow and it paused, as though choosing its words carefully. “Detective Reed, do you have an expense account?”

Gavin snorted. “Uh, yeah, I do, but what’s that got to do with this?”

“You see, in order to question the android witnesses last time, I required human fingerprints to open the cases so I could probe the androids. That’s where you come in.”

Realization made Gavin’s stomach drop. “What? I have to use my government-issued expense account to fucking hire android hookers so you can question them? There isn’t a fucking bypass code or whatever?”

Connor smirked. “I assure you, Detective, that was the first question I asked them last time. Lieutenant Anderson was equally hesitant about this.”

Gavin laughed. “So Hank’s got a bunch of android hookers on his account? Fuck. Well, then, _you_ get to explain to Fowler why this was necessary, because _I_ sure as fuck won’t be doing it. Now. Let’s get this over with, I guess. You do the talking—or, uh, probing, or whatever—and I’ll, uh… fuck, whatever,” he groaned, scuffing his shoe on the floor.

“One moment, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “Excuse me,” he addressed the two owners. “My name is Connor. I am with the DPD, assisting Detective Reed with this case. When was the last scheduled memory wipe for the androids here?”

The two owners looked at each other, then back at Connor. “Uh. We suspended operations,” one of them said sheepishly. “So they haven’t been wiped at all. Normally they get wiped every two hours when we’re open—they’re on a programmed schedule—but when we came in and saw the body, we turned off the programmed memory wipes altogether. We thought maybe if they saw anything… I mean, they’re always watching, you know?”

Gavin grimaced. “Yup. I’m aware.”

“I see. That’s fortunate, as now we may be able to obtain valuable evidence. Good thinking,” Connor commended. “Come on, Detective.” He started walking toward the center of the room, toward an android who may at one point have been pole dancing but was, at present, standing still.

“Hey, Connor. I’m the one giving orders around here,” Gavin snapped. He followed Connor anyway, though, but not because Connor said so. “This one’s free. Start with this one.”

Connor smirked. “That was the plan.” It reached out and took the android’s forearm, in a move that didn’t exactly look comfortable for the both of them. Connor’s eyelids flickered open and shut, like it was glitching out like crazy. “Hmm. This one hasn’t seen anything. I’ll keep looking.”

Gavin waved down the owners. “You sure you don’t have a bypass code?”

They shrugged. “Sorry,” one said, not sounding sorry whatsoever.

_Oh, screw you guys,_ Gavin thought angrily and pulled out his wallet.

A few hundred bucks worth of androids later and they’d gotten nowhere. Gavin was about to give up before Fowler decided to actually can him for real this time when Connor started walking toward the VIP room. Gavin froze. _Oh, shit. That’s… that’s where…_

Fuck. He had to follow Connor. He didn’t have a choice. The case required it, and Gavin was going to do his fucking job. He was good at his job. He liked his job, goddamnit, just… _fuck._ How much data did these things store, anyway? Fuck, he hadn’t even _thought_ of that when he’d come here originally. He had been thinking pretty much exclusively with his dick. Oh, goddamn it.

Connor went up to the twink Gavin had rented, then looked at Gavin expectantly.

Gavin felt sweat form under his arms and along his shoulderblades. “Do you really need to probe every single one of these?” he asked weakly.

Connor stared at him. “Of course I do, Detective. How else are we to figure out what happened?”

Gavin cringed, bracing himself. “Right. Of course. Okay.” He placed his palm on the reader, then swiped his card.

The twink stepped out of its case, standing next to Connor.

“Good afternoon, Gavin. I’ll take you to your room. Would you like me to load the preferences I’ve saved from your last visit?”

Oh… oh, no. 

“N-no, that’s—that’s not why I’m here—” Gavin sputtered.

Then the twink’s eyes, skin and hair color changed, and Gavin’s eyes widened. Three things occurred to him. One was that apparently, there were client profiles stored at Eden Club that persisted even after the scheduled memory wipes, despite the promise of discretion. Another was that his sex life was now data on Connor’s hard drive.

But the third, and worst, was that Connor and RoboTwink, after his “preferences” had been loaded… were _identical._

Gavin felt like he was going to be sick.

He pushed past the both of them and hurried into one of the rooms they’d opened, feeling his stomach heave. 

When he’d finished getting sick, Gavin washed out his mouth and tidied himself up in the mirror. He had to go back to work. He couldn’t give up on this case. Yet…

Gavin came out of the room. “I’m not feeling great,” he muttered. “Connor. You… you keep gathering evidence. But I’m going home.”

He could barely look at Connor, who seemed slightly disappointed. It looked at the twink, then back at Gavin. Its LED went yellow, then back to blue.

Gavin turned and left, got in his car, and drove home.


	6. The Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin begins working on his new case with Connor.

He spent the rest of the day on the couch under a blanket with bad TV reruns in the background.

_Am… am I…?_

He couldn’t bear to think about it, but his brain gave him no reprieve. He remembered Wallflower Bot, who had been tall, slender, with dark hair. He remembered Plastic Adam, who was tall, slender, brown-eyed and pale. They both had looked like Connor, too. And then there was RoboTwink, whom he had _apparently_ requested to look exactly the fuck like motherfucking Connor.

_Connor._

It had always, only, ever been about Connor—

And like a flood, the events of the past few weeks all came rushing to the forefront of his mind. Shoving Connor against random shit at work. Punching him in the gut. Staring at him from afar. Thinking about him constantly. Losing the fight to him in the evidence room, as Connor’s precision disarmed and defeated him in a matter of seconds. Watching the video of Connor kicking his ass. Getting on top of him during their fight in that conference room, oh, _fuck—_

Gavin cursed loudly, then got up and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of the pantry. He poured himself a measure of it, knocked it back, then poured another.

“Fuck you, Connor,” he muttered, watching his hands shake as he tried and failed to cap the bottle. “I hate you. I hate you, and I wish you’d ended up in federal prison or a dumpster.”

With the whiskey bottle and glass in hand, Gavin stumbled over to the kitchen table, sat down at it, and   
put his head in his hands.

Gavin woke up a few hours later with a headache, a cramp in his shoulders, and a lingering sense of dread. What time was it? Had he fallen asleep on the dining room table? Oh, for fuck’s sake, he had to go to work tomorrow.

Cursing, Gavin got to his feet, attempting to blink the drowsiness from his eyes.

Oh, it was only ten p.m. That wasn’t so bad. Not _great,_ given that he’d fallen asleep in a drunken stupor, but he only felt dehydrated and not hungover, so it couldn’t be that bad. At least he wasn’t Anderson. Then Connor would be following him around like a lost duckling.

_Connor._

He shivered. He needed water. And food. 

Then, having had both, he went to bed.

Unsurprisingly, work the next day was a challenge.

Gavin had woken up, still with that same sense of dread, showered, and driven to work, feeling nerves tingle his palms and make him sweat. What the fuck? It was just another day at work. Just another day.

_Just another day,_ he repeated to himself as he walked into the building and towards the bullpen. _Just another—_

He saw Connor sitting on the edge of Anderson’s desk, shooting the shit with him. For the first time, he noticed Connor’s broad shoulders, his lean waist, his long legs.

Gavin’s face grew hot. 

_No,_ he hissed at himself in his head. _Fuck, no. I am not lusting after Connor. I am not lusting after plastic. I am not—_

“Good morning, Detective Reed,” Connor greeted pleasantly, and Gavin jumped. While he’d been freaking out internally, Connor had turned and gotten off of Hank’s desk and approached him. “Are you feeling better today? I would like to discuss the case we were working on yesterday. I may have found some leads.”

_Fuck him and his stupid fucking handsome face._

“Uh. Sure. Let’s, uh, do that.”

Connor smirked. “Good. I arranged for the android to be taken to evidence room 5. Let’s meet there in about… ten minutes or so? I imagine you’ll want to get coffee.”

“Yeah. I do.” Gavin felt like all of his brain cells had gone out to lunch. Why the fuck could he not fucking talk?

“Great.” Connor turned and went back to talking to Hank, and Gavin went to get a cup of coffee and fantasize about putting a bullet in his brain.

He went up to evidence room 5 and there was the android, lying on a table that seemed awfully slablike, though this wasn’t a morgue. Gavin wondered if, at any point in the future, there would be a morgue for androids.

“Ah. There you are, Detective. I have examined the android, and I would like to discuss my findings with you,” Connor announced. He still spoke with unnecessarily clear enunciation, despite being a deviant. Hopefully someday he’d sound normal. 

“Uh, sure. Shoot.” Gavin hid his sudden heart rate increase behind his coffee cup.

Connor walked up to the android on the slab in the middle of the room. “I analyzed the android after you went home sick. HR400, a few years old. Worked at the Eden Club. Injured by a baseball bat, dismembered, and drained of its thirium. This leads me to a few hypotheses. One is that it was cornered and attacked by people who hate androids, who somehow managed to get in and out of the club unseen—by either humans _or_ androids. I am not yet sure how this could have happened, but it is possible. Another theory is that it was cornered by Red Ice dealers.” Connor paused to examine the android’s neck, or what was left of it. “There should have been a slow leak of thirium when we found it, but there was none. It seems likely that Red Ice manufacturers were involved. At present, no one else I am aware of has use for thirium. It is relatively easy to obtain from CyberLife supply stores. Unless…”

“Unless?” Gavin studied Connor’s handsome face as he looked down at the android on the slab, lost in thought. God, whoever designed him—

“Unless the assailant was a deviant android who had experienced a loss of thirium. Though, why would it have attacked one of its own?” Connor stood to his full height from where he’d been bending to examine the android. “The anti-android group seems the most likely. However… why not attack every android in the club, if that’s why they were there?”

“I, uh… Not sure,” Gavin finished awkwardly. He took another sip of coffee.

Connor looked at Gavin, tilting his head. He looked puzzled. “Are you all right, Detective Reed? You aren’t acting like yourself.”

Gavin felt sweat form on his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. “It’s fine. What, you gonna psychoanalyze _me,_ too?”

“You are considerably less agitated and unpleasant than usual,” Connor pointed out, a little too cheerfully.

Gavin glared. “Don’t get too big for your goddamn britches, _deviant._ There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing going on.” He felt his face flush.

Connor’s LED went yellow, then back to blue. “I suppose I won’t complain about you not bullying me,” he said, with a hint of amusement.

“Fuck you.”

They stood in silence for a little while, as Connor examined the body again. “I think we should do a little research,” he suggested. “Look up known anti-android groups in Detroit, and see if any of their members have accounts at the Eden Club. If they do, they will likely be under a fake name, but it’s a place to start. You should help me,” Connor invited, as they left the evidence room.

“Uh, duh, that’s what I was going to do,” Gavin said petulantly. “I’ll be in the archives.”

“Very well.”

Gavin grabbed his laptop from the bullpen and all but ran to the elevator. Anything to get away from Connor.

Fuck. This… this was not good.

Gavin opened his laptop and set up shop at one of the desks in the archive. So, what he had to go on so far was that Connor had done the USB tango with the Eden Club androids and gotten nowhere—none of them had seen anything. That is, other than his embarrassing sexual history. Gavin prayed to the God he didn’t believe in that Connor hadn’t noticed the similarity between himself and RoboTwink. Then again, knowing Gavin’s luck… 

_Okay, Reed. Focus. You got a crime to solve. There’s shit to do._

Gavin logged into the DPD intranet and looked up the notes Connor had attached to the case file. That’s right—the android had been drained of its thirium. And who would have a need for thirium? Red Ice manufacturers and dealers. 

Gavin was doing a search when someone sat down at the desk across from his. “What?” He looked up to see Connor. “What are you doing here?” he snapped, though the effect was not nearly as sharp as he’d intended it to be.

“Doing research, of course,” Connor replied brightly.

“Yeah, but… can’t you just do it in your head? Like, why you gotta be here with me while I’m doing it?” Gavin realized the implication of his words and cursed inwardly.

Fortunately, Connor seemed oblivious to double entendres. Thank fuck he was a fucking robot. “We are collaborating. It seemed logical to be in the same place.”

Gavin sighed with exasperation. “We are not _collaborating._ I only called you in to scan those androids. This is my case. You already fucking solved my other case! You think I’m gonna let you show me up on this one, too?”

Connor looked slightly hurt. His LED went yellow, then back to blue. “I think that we can solve this case faster if we collaborate. However, if you insist…” He got to his feet. “Lieutenant Anderson will likely want my help with his cases today. I am gathering data on android cases to submit to Markus. He will be using it in policymaking efforts to support android rights legislation.” Connor paused. “I will be adding this case to my records. Please alert me if you find anything.”

Gavin sighed. “Fine.” He stared at the desk, unable and unwilling to look at Connor.

“Have a good day, Detective Reed.” Then Gavin heard Connor’s orderly footsteps fade away until a heavy door opened and closed behind him.

“Fuck,” Gavin groaned, shaking his head. He hadn’t wanted to be around Connor before, and this was kicking all his instincts into overdrive. Because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—fuck this up. He was going to solve this case, by himself, and Connor wasn’t going to beat him again. Nor would he suspect Gavin’s sudden… _issue_ with him. Whatever it was, Gavin wasn’t interested in naming it, because naming things made them real, and he wanted this to be all in his head or, preferably, not exist at all. He’d just have to suppress it until it worked its way out of his system.

Now. It was time to focus.

Gavin first decided to read Connor’s notes on the android they’d encountered yesterday.

_Cause of death: loss of thirium._

Cause of death? That was a new one. Then again, it’s not like they had anything else to call it.

_Thirium pump regulator was intact when body was found; no other causes of shutdown exist._

Gavin had no idea what a thirium pump regulator was, but he supposed he’d better find out.

About ten minutes of Google searching later, he had more android anatomy diagrams than he knew what to do with, including the HR400 model that would be a match for the one they found dismembered. Apparently a thirium pump regulator was an android pacemaker, and without it, the android had only about a minute and half to “live.” So, this android’s regulator hadn’t been fucked with, according to Connor. Had someone come in, beaten this thing, ripped off its limbs, then sucked out its android blood, all while it was still “alive,” thrashing and kicking at them? That seemed unlikely, but since Connor hadn’t found any other cause of death—and he would know, he had his crazy scanners and a brain made entirely out of data and search functionality—Gavin was forced to concede that somehow, it had been possible. Whatever. He’d figure it out.

He had to admit, though, that this job would be easier if he were an android. First of all, Connor could remember absolutely every tiny thing that ever came into contact with him, and second, he could look shit up and cross-index it with whatever the hell he wanted, inside his goddamn head, without needing the three-monitor setup Gavin liked to use during particularly difficult cases, when he had to have five things loaded all at once. Connor could just do that in his goddamn _head._ Connor’s head was a monitor. Connor was a _computer._

He was a fucking _computer._

It. _It_ was a fucking computer. _Dude, it’s not a person, no matter how real it looks and sounds, no matter how well it mimics emotion. Goddamn it, Reed. Get your shit together._

Okay, so. Connor had logged the cause of “death,” a description of the injuries, and an estimated date and time of shutdown. Now it was time to retrace the potential steps.

Gavin glanced at the clock and grimaced. Fucking light duty half-days. There was no way he’d progress on the case with only four hours a day to do it in.

He ran a search on his laptop for known Red Ice contacts, then got out his phone.

A man’s voice came through. “Thank you for calling Eden Club. Our hours of operation are—”

“Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police. Bypass voicemail. Call administrator’s mobile phone.”

The line went quiet, and then he heard the same voice, only live this time. “Hello?”

Gavin repeated his introduction. “I need your client records.”

“But Eden Club prides itself on its discretion,” he protested weakly.

Gavin glared, though he knew the owner couldn’t see it. “There is an investigation going on. I need your goddamn client records. Give the DPD access to your systems, please. A user ID and login credentials with administrator privileges. If you refuse, we’ll issue a court order. Trust me, it’s easier this way.” 

And also, discretion? With the way RoboTwink not only saved his data but immediately activated his preferences without even waiting until they were in the room Gavin had rented? Hardly.

“Uh, yes. I’ll take care of that right away,” the owner said quickly.

“Do it while I’m on the line,” Gavin insisted.

A few moments later, he had his login credentials and was ready to pore over the list. He exported the data and cross-indexed it with his list of Red Ice contacts, pulled from the DPD database. Then he pulled up the list Connor had suggested, of known and suspected members of anti-android terrorist and hate groups, and added them.

_Aha._ There was one name. Probably a fake name, but it was something to go on, at least. Fuck, maybe he should have used fake credentials at the Eden Club too, though it certainly didn’t matter _now,_ ugh.

Gavin winced. He suddenly had a headache. _Fuck._ He wanted to keep working on the case, but his head was starting to throb. He looked at the name.

_Smith, Ted._

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of course it had to be fake. These bastards were too smart, though clearly not smart enough to pick a first name that anyone actually used anymore.

_Barista at Cafe 313. Graduated from high school in 2026._ There was a driver’s license photo. 

Gavin did a general search of the DPD database with that name. _Huh. Whaddaya know, it’s legit. Ted Smith. A 30-year-old Ted Smith in 2038._

Well. Looked like he was going to be paying Mr. Ted Smith a visit.

Gavin looked at the clock on his phone. Ugh. Tomorrow, apparently. He’d spent too much time dicking around with Connor today, and light duty restrictions were not to be fucked with. Plus, his headache was threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine, so it was time to go.

Gavin closed his laptop. Maybe he could look at it later, at home.

Or not, he thought as he arrived, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket. He was fucking exhausted somehow, and hadn’t noticed the fatigue yesterday because he’d gone home after throwing up in the Eden Club room’s en-suite. Because Connor had found out from RoboTwink that…

Gavin scowled and got undressed, climbing into bed in just his boxers. Fuck it. He’d take a nap and bitch inwardly about his human frailties later.

_He was standing in the break room, getting a cup of coffee, when he heard a group of people laughing._

_Gavin turned to face them, and saw three people with Connor, who was telling them something that must have been funny, for how they were responding. He approached, and felt a jolt of horror in his stomach when he heard what Connor was saying._

_“I found out Detective Reed likes to fuck androids,” Connor declared, in a low voice. “I went to the Eden Club for a case and saw it in an android’s memory.” Connor saw Gavin and smirked. “I didn’t know you were into that, Gavin. What’s wrong? Humans not good enough anymore?”_

_Then the other people and the break room vanished, and it was just him and Connor. Connor was advancing on him, with Gavin’s back against a wall. “I know why you fucked that android. You wanted it to be me.” Connor smirked and opened his belt. “All you had to do was ask, you know…”_

_Then he was on his back, with Connor looming over him, thrusting, grunting with pleasure. “Is this what you want?” he breathed._

_Gavin couldn’t speak; he could only moan and give in to the pleasure, as Connor reached down to wrap his hand around Gavin’s cock and—_

Gavin woke up with a start, shivering. He’d broken into a cold sweat in his sleep, and had gotten hard. Fuck no. No fucking way. He was absolutely _not_ going to take this shit. No matter how hard he was, he wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t going to jerk off to a dream about Connor. God, what the fuck was up with that dream? Why was Connor fucking _him_ and not the other way around? Fuck that! If he and Connor were gonna bang, they—

Gavin cut off that thought abruptly. There was no point in entertaining this nonsense, because Gavin was not going to fuck Connor, _ever_ —first of all because he was a coworker, and second, because _no._ He’d fucked too many goddamn androids already. He didn’t need to add Connor into the mix. Connor with his annoying need to be helpful. He’d be so awkward in bed, trying too hard—

_Anyway._

Gavin got up, took a piss, and went back to sleep.

He woke up at what for a non-concussed person probably would have been dinnertime, and he supposed it was as good a time as any to eat. He’d stocked a bunch of easy and frozen shit and was microwaving something that was a little too complicated to qualify as ‘instant’ but it was food, and it was probably a step up from the breakfast burrito he was too tired to go acquire.

Gavin plopped down on the couch with his food. He’d thought about trying to work on the case, but now that his headache was finally starting to subside, he didn’t want to risk getting it back. Fuck this fucking concussion, and fuck Connor for giving it to him. He didn’t want to lose sight of the fact that Connor had been the one to injure him. Really, all of this was Connor’s fault, and now he was on the DPD payroll—

_Dude. Stop thinking about Connor._

Gavin cursed and turned on the TV to whatever sports game he could find in an effort to drown out his treacherous, bullshit brain.

His phone rang. Gavin picked it up, swiping the screen. “What’s up,” he greeted, wholly without enthusiasm.

“Hey, it’s me. You don’t sound too good,” Tina replied. “You doing okay over there?”

“Meh,” Gavin muttered. “Sleeping a lot. Pissed off.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He thought about refusing, but decided against it. Tina was way better at this shit than he was. Maybe he could benefit from her insight.

“I’m on a new case,” he explained, intentionally vague.

“And? I thought you’d be happy to go back to work. You’re not considering leaving the force to go pursue your childhood dream of being the world’s grumpiest ballerina, are you?”

“Ha, ha,” Gavin mocked. “No. I’m pissed that the plastic prick is solving all my cases and taking my fucking respect. He’ll have my job at this rate,” he complained.

“Connor _will not_ take your job, Gavin.” Tina sighed. “Come on. We’ve been over this. What’s _really_ bothering you?”

Gavin felt anxiety constrict his chest. “That _is_ what’s bothering me, Tina. I came back from the fucking hospital and he’d solved my Red Ice murder case. Just out from under me like that!”

“You were _gone_ though,” she protested. “The people who were affected deserved justice. Connor’s offer to do it was a huge help. No one else had the time to take it on. Just think, now you get to do this new one. You’d been stuck on that case for ages. Try to see the bright side. Why do you always insist on making shit so damn hard on yourself? And on everyone else?”

“But it was _mine,”_ Gavin whined. “It was mine and he stole it. He is literally stealing my job, Tina.”

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “All right. Whatever. You sure that’s all? Because it’s starting to feel like every time we talk, we talk about Connor. For someone who doesn’t think he’s a person, you’re awfully fixated on him.”

“I am _not,”_ Gavin retorted, loudly. “And if I am, it’s because I can’t fucking think because he _gave me a concussion,_ Tina. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Ugh, that’s right, I actually _had_ forgotten. Not about the concussion, I was there for that shit, but about the fact that it was Connor who did it.”

“Yeah, and he’s following me everywhere. I thought he was a fucking deviant. Or that he was supposed to be working with Anderson,” Gavin griped. “God, even his _face_ makes me angry. I just wanna punch it.”

“Well, don’t do that, you’ll break your fucking hand,” Tina chided with what sounded like a smirk. “Can’t you work on shit together? Come on, Gavin, please tell me you didn’t fail kindergarten. Just put the past behind you. Use him to help you. It’s not him showing you up if you’re the one telling him what to do, right? Plus I doubt he’s trying to take any of the credit. Come on. I’m sure he’s useful. Doesn’t he have an analysis suite or whatever? That’s gotta save some time.” He heard a crunching sound and reasoned that she must be eating dinner. “You’ll do a lot more to further your career by taking advantage of the tools at your disposal than you will moping at home about how handsome your new detective bot is.”

Gavin’s mouth dropped open and his cheeks burned. “Ex _cuse_ me?” he exclaimed, aghast, his voice kicking up an octave.

She ignored him. “I just called to make sure you weren’t dead after two days of investigating, but if you’re able to get hysterical at me, you’re clearly fine,” she replied cheerfully. “Let’s hang out on Friday, okay? We’ll do something fun.”

“Okay,” he said begrudgingly. “But you fucking take that shit back. Maybe _you_ think he’s handsome, but all I see is a fucking plastic prick. Well, I’ve got my eye on him, and the next time he wants to commit treason I am going to put a fucking bullet in his robot brain.” He mimed cocking and firing a gun at the wall, complete with _pa-kow_ sound effect.

“You do that,” she humored him, laughing a little. “Take care of yourself though, seriously. Get the rest you need now and soon you’ll be able to go back to an exciting life of hookups, bar brawls and bad decisions.”

“Hooray,” he said, not even half-heartedly.

“Night, Gav.” He imagined her smirking through the phone.

“Night, Tina. Thanks.”

They hung up.

He was getting sleepy again, and with his meal eaten, Gavin got ready for bed.

The next morning, he counted himself lucky that he hadn’t been plagued by another dream about fucking Connor. Or, well, Connor had technically been the one doing the fucking, but he was gonna blame that one on the concussion. Gavin was certain, without having done any research, that concussions caused weird emotions and thoughts, and that explanation was plenty good enough. And besides, no one needed to know, and no one ever _would_ know—not even Tina, who had the shrewdness only a best friend could have. Well, she was wrong. Gavin wasn’t—well, he hadn’t been—thinking about Connor being handsome. Because he wasn’t handsome, he was a machine. Machines couldn’t be handsome. Well-designed, maybe, but—

Gavin slammed the door to his car and locked it remotely, then hurried into the precinct. He was feeling slightly less loopy than the previous day, at least. Time for some coffee.

He was surprised not to see Connor there in the break room, fetching Hank’s morning cuppa like the well-behaved little police errand-bot he was, until he remembered that Connor had explained that he’d be busy doing research for… whoever or whatever it was. The feds? Markus? The court system? Gavin wished, again, that he’d never had that concussion. Shit seemed to be flying by, and he was at a loss.

Well, he had some research of his own to do, and a certain Ted Smith to follow up on, and now was as good a time as any to proceed. That, at least, was in his grasp.

Gavin went up to the archives, where it was relatively quiet and a slightly better place to make a phone call. He pulled up all of the data from the previous day and picked up the desk phone, reaching over to dial. God. 2038 and they were still using these ancient-ass office phones? Really?

He dialed the owners of the Eden Club again, though he wasn’t really holding out hope that they could—or would want to—help. However, the more he knew about this guy going in, the easier it would be if it did turn out he was implicated.

“This is Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police,” Gavin began, with one hand holding the phone up to his ear and the other trying to type. “I need to speak with you regarding one of your clients. … Yeah, yeah, discretion, whatever, but you should have realized that if anything shitty goes down, we gotta know about it. … All right. I’ll be by in an hour.” Gavin went to hang up.

“Bring your android,” he heard the man say through the phone speaker. “We have more of ours for it to scan.”

Gavin winced. Bring Connor? Like, actually ask him? Talk to him? “Yeah. Uh. I will. See you,” he finished, hanging up.

He sighed, then dialed Hank’s extension. Hank probably knew where Connor was and Gavin didn’t feel like wandering around the entire building looking for him.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” a gruff voice greeted, with only the slightest polite half-assed nod to enthusiasm.

“Hank, I’m gonna borrow your toy. Need him for a case,” Gavin said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t need to explain.

“And just why do you need Connor?” Hank sounded oddly defensive. “You can’t take one of the others?”

“I need the forensics shit, none of these android beat cops can do what Connor can do. So once he’s done blowing you under the desk, send him up to me, will you?”

“Fuck off, Reed,” Hank growled, and hung up.

Gavin sipped his coffee for about ten minutes, trying to figure out whether he needed to go look for Connor himself, until Connor showed up in the doorway. “You require my assistance, Detective Reed?”

Gavin looked up from his desk; Connor had walked up and was standing a respectful distance away, in his normal immaculate CyberLife suit with perfectly coiffed hair. Of course, Gavin could have perfect hair, too, if he was a fucking android. “Yeah. Hi. We need to go back to the Eden Club because…” He lost his train of thought. Connor looked at him quizzically, clearly waiting for instructions. “Uhh. I called them. Oh, I found a match in the database. They said to bring you with me. Something about scanning other androids.” God, he hated how suddenly unsure he sounded.

Connor’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I can come with you. I have been trying to shift my work into the afternoons in order to assist you in the mornings. I have been informed that you are on light duty through the end of next week.” He looked guilty. “I… I’m sorry,” he said softly, looking away. “I didn’t mean to cause you injury, I only—”

“Yeah, well, you did,” Gavin snapped. Connor looked back at him, a little hurt. “I’m not gonna forgive you, Connor, so just stop with the fucking android emotion guilt trip bullshit. Just help me with this shit so I can get it solved faster and make up for the weeks of my life I’m never gonna get back.”

“I…” Connor trailed off, adjusting his sleeves and looking away again. Then he met Gavin’s gaze. “How can I help you solve this case?”

“We’re going to the Eden Club to talk to these shithead owners about some jackass named Ted Smith, and you’re going to R2-D2 their computer or whatever, since apparently they were all cagey at us before.”

Connor hesitated, then slowly opened his mouth. “That, and the investigation was cut short due to illness. I had forgotten to warn you about concussion-related nausea.” Gavin’s phone buzzed. “I’ve just sent you medical documentation regarding healing from a concussion. If you need to step away again today, just let me know.”

Shit. That’s right. _That’s_ what happened the last time they were there. Thank fuck Connor had pegged it as nausea from the concussion and hadn’t seen it for what it really had been. “Yeah. I’ll do that. Grab your shit or whatever and let’s go deal with this shit. I’m driving.”

“I have everything I need,” Connor announced pleasantly. “I’m ready when you are, Detective.”

Gavin looked at him, and saw the tiny smile on his face. _Whoop-de-doo, the robot gets to feel useful._ “C’mon. We’re stopping for better coffee on the way, because the stuff at work is burnt to shit.”

It really was an odd scene, to be in his car with Connor riding shotgun as they waited in the drive-thru at the nearest coffeeshop chain. Gavin had had to try not to glance sideways at Connor as he drove; he was pretty sure the ninth circle of android fuckery hell was getting into a literal car accident because you couldn’t stop checking out your android coworker. Fuck.

“May I turn on the radio?” Connor asked out of nowhere.

Gavin stalled. That was not what he expected Connor to ask. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. No girly shit or country.”

Connor turned on the radio by blinking, and a song came on that Gavin strongly associated with getting thrown out of places as a teenager. The station changed to a song sung by a woman about getting a shotgun, presumably to defend herself from someone.

“I said no country, asshole,” Gavin warned. 

“My apologies,” Connor quipped, and changed it again. A cheesy saxophone riff played in the background.

“Okay, fucking _no,_ we are _not_ listening to ‘Careless Whisper,’” Gavin groaned. “Not now and not _ever.”_

“Very well,” Connor replied, and put on classical music instead; not ideal, but better than the other two, by far. “You have a lot of specifications. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to allow me to turn on the radio at all.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Gavin grumped. “And my only specifications are ‘listen to shit that doesn’t suck.’”

“These songs have been listened to millions of times,” Connor pointed out. “It would appear that the concept of ‘suck’ is subjective.”

“Don’t backtalk me, RoboCop.”

They arrived, and once Gavin had his twenty-ounce drip coffee in hand, he felt better prepared to handle the day. Or half day. Whatever.

The two owners were waiting for Connor and Gavin at the club, which was still closed. They ducked under the police tape and headed inside.

“Now, I know I said discretion,” the one began, addressing Gavin. He was a shorter man, stocky, balding, and very gay. “But I realized… there’s some things that have happened here that would best be brought into the light. I feel like it’s the only way to get justice for what happened to Traci.”

“You still on about all that? Come on, Jack, it’s just an android. Don’t go getting attached to them, then you’re just gonna get sad when they break and we gotta throw them away,” his partner chided. He was taller, with a deeper voice and a gruff affect that reminded Gavin a little bit of Hank.

“Throw them away? But what if they’re people, Lucas?” Jack protested, with a touch of emotion in his voice. He looked up at Lucas.

“They’re _not,”_ Lucas insisted, with a tone that suggested that they’d had this discussion a hundred times.

“But what if they _are?”_

“Either way, it’s getting investigated,” Gavin interjected. “Whether the android was alive or not, a crime was still committed, and we are still investigating. Now what was it you wanted to show us?”

“Follow me, and bring the android,” Lucas directed, pointing to a door that said _Employees Only._

“Connor!” Gavin called out, then looked around. Where the fuck was Connor? Then he spotted him, apparently attempting to make conversation through one of the android cases. “Come on, we ain’t got time for that.”

Connor said one more thing and then went back over to Gavin.

“What were you talking to it about?” Gavin asked in a low voice, as they followed Jack and Lucas down the hall.

“I wanted to know something,” Connor explained, “and I thought perhaps asking one of the other androids could prove fruitful.”

“And?” Gavin urged expectantly.

“I wanted to know if the android we found dead was a deviant.”

“Does it matter?” Gavin asked impatiently.

Connor raised an eyebrow. “It’s a crime scene, Detective. Everything matters.”

They followed Jack and Lucas into the employee-only area, which wasn’t much—Gavin got the feeling that the only “employees” around here were androids. There was a large storage room with many replacement androids, which frankly gave Gavin the creeps. Some of them stood orderly by a wall in a line, others looked like they’d been tossed around like dolls.

“I see they haven’t cleaned up the mess,” Connor remarked softly, looking out into the room.

Gavin frowned. “What mess? You see something?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry. I meant… well, when Lieutenant Anderson and I came here looking for the deviant, there was a fight in here.” Connor spoke so matter-of-factly about it that Gavin would have laughed at him in disbelief, if he weren’t acutely aware of how incredible a fighter Connor was. 

“You guys had a fight in here?” Gavin snorted. Well, that explained the androids on the floor. They must have gotten knocked down and no one bothered to pick them back up.

Then Gavin realized something that probably should have occurred to him by now. “Hey, Jack, Lucas. Who else works here with you guys? Are any of them still employed here?”

God, that’d be just his luck—stuck interrogating the jackass who’d almost thrown him out the one and only time he’d come here. He gave Connor a discreet sideways glance as he thought back on it, remembered the hot android twink on his knees as Gavin humiliated him and made him suck his cock.

Fuck, if Connor had been in his place—

“No, not anymore,” Jack explained, breaking Gavin out of his daydream. He looked over from where he’d been watching Connor walk up to the crowd of androids against the far wall.

“Anymore?”

“We had two security men,” Jack added, “but one quit after the crime happened here and the other was let go.”

Gavin turned to him. “Let go? Why’s that?”

Jack looked uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.”

“Look,” Gavin began. “The second you start lying to us, you end up in the shit with these people. You don’t want that, trust me, or you’ll have a whole lot more problems than just lost income from a bunch of broken dolls. I’m gonna need the contact information of both of these people who worked for you.”

“All right,” Jack conceded, and got out his phone.

When he’d gotten the information, Gavin thanked him—albeit reluctantly—and set about looking for Connor, who had disappeared into the array of androids. Gavin wondered if Connor was doing his version of interrogating them, then realized that, actually, he knew what that looked like.

Shit. He should have RoboCop interrogate that bouncer instead, then. Except he’d still have to be there for it, fuck.

“Connor? You get lost, tin can?”

“One second, Detective,” Connor called out, then emerged from the array and approached.

“What took you so long?” Gavin chided.

Connor gave him a mildly indignant look. “I was probing their memories,” he said, slightly miffed. “And not taking too much time. There were fifty androids there I had to probe.”

Okay, that was actually pretty impressive.

“Cool. So, uh, find anything?” Gavin found his coolness factor went down significantly when Connor stood close to him like that.

Connor paused, making an expression that looked like the robot equivalent of stroking one’s beard thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I copied as much data as I could, when there was any to copy. Most of them are new models or haven’t been used since their last scheduled memory wipe. I plan to go through it all in detail back at the station, perhaps this afternoon.” He stepped forward, looking at the shelves that appeared to have toppled over, eyes scanning the room in memory. “There were two deviants here last time I came here. Statistically speaking, for the general android population, having this many androids from one location going deviant in such a short time is unlikely. However… given my studies of deviancy and experiences interacting with other deviants, I’m considering the possibility that certain experiences can… well, not _cause_ deviancy, but perhaps contribute to its development. There’s a lot to think about,” Connor said slowly.

“Huh. Well. Anything else you need here?” Gavin asked, then kicked himself internally. _Jesus, Reed. Who the fuck’s in charge here?_ “Cause if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not be here any longer than I have to be.”

Connor turned to him. His LED flickered yellow for about half a second. “You have remote access to their client database, correct?”

“Yeah, from a few days ago.”

“Was there anything else you wished to ask about while we were here?” Connor glanced at him, waiting for an order. 

“Let me think.” Gavin paused. Was there something? He felt like there was something. He decided to look around the room one time, to see if something jogged his memory. Androids, fallen shelves, a loading dock, one very annoying plastic prick.

He turned. Connor’s eyes were brown, and matched his hair. They were—

“Nope, I’m good. We can go now,” Gavin said abruptly, breaking himself out of what were extremely gay thoughts about his _android_ coworker.

As they went to go back into the employee only area, Gavin stopped in the hallway in front of a door that they’d walked by earlier without noticing it. He tried the knob, but the door was locked.

“Electronic,” Connor noted, glancing at the keypad right above the handle. He studied the keys, then tried four combinations. The fifth opened the door, and he opened it as quietly as he could, gesturing for them to move forward.

Okay, that door combo lock solving thing was extremely badass.

They looked around the room; it wasn’t much, just a dusty, aging control panel. There were screens for the security cameras, and a computer for day to day business operations and likely for running maintenance on the androids.

Connor was squinting at the ground, then reached out, touched it with the pads of two fingers, then brought those fingers to his lips and licked them.

Gavin’s face flushed.

“Thirium,” he observed. “HR400, the very same model and serial number we’re after. And…” He got up and touched the door handle, licking his fingers again. “Traces of Red Ice.” He turned to Gavin. “You know what this means.”

Gavin sighed.

After a brief protest from Jack and Lucas, Gavin called in a team of forensic analysts, who would examine the place top to bottom. He, however, would be going home for the day, and would read whatever they had prepared for tomorrow. Gavin still felt a nagging feeling, like he’d forgotten something, but he let it go for now. Connor opted to return to the DPD with him, to go over the data he’d gotten from the androids, he’d said.

“Hopefully I’ll find something and we can discuss it tomorrow. Have a good day, Detective Reed.”

Gavin huffed a sigh. “Thanks. See ya.”

He went home and passed out.


	7. The One With The Gay Locker Room Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor seeks advice on how to deal with Gavin. Gavin continues to work on the case with Connor, and has some… thoughts about him as well.
> 
> Smut tags: masturbation.

Connor, as an employee, got lunch breaks, though he hadn’t originally been exactly sure what to do with them, seeing as he didn’t eat. Lieutenant Anderson did, however, and it had become their routine to spend their lunch hour together. At first, Hank had insisted on his usual fast food fare, but Connor was trying—slowly—to encourage Hank to eat healthier.

Today, however, they were at a diner near the station. Connor would analyze the data from the Eden Club androids later, when Hank was busy with his own cases.

As Hank bit into a sandwich—pulled pork, but it had coleslaw on it, which did, technically, count as a vegetable—Connor decided to gather information for his secondary objective.

“Hank, can I ask you a question?”

Hank gave him the look that Connor had come to understand to mean _You’re gonna fucking do it anyway, so go ahead._ He decided to press on. “Do you have any advice for how to work with Detective Reed?” Connor felt troubled, he realized. Hopefully Hank wouldn’t be concerned.

“Yeah,” Hank mumbled around a mouthful of food. “Don’t work with him at all. That’s my advice. Speaking of, why are you? You were never assigned to his cases. You don’t have to put up with the prick.”

“I…” Connor paused. It was true. Why _was_ he doing it? “I was responsible for injuring him,” Connor said slowly. “I have made him less efficient. It seemed only fair to offer my services until he is back to full health.”

Hank snorted. “He’s the one who picked the fight, Connor, not you. You were doing your job, and damn well I might add. Plus you saved all those androids from the camp and prevented a war. That’s plenty. Don’t put yourself out.” He bit into his sandwich again.

“Thank you,” Connor replied, uplifted. “I… I really do appreciate your support, Hank. I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Hey, don’t go getting all mushy on me now,” Hank warned, but he was smiling. “I’m glad, too, Connor. I like our lunches together. I don’t even miss the whiskeys I used to have on my lunch breaks.”

“They are bad for your liver,” Connor informed gently. “However, I really do want to know. How do I adapt to Detective Reed’s behavior? It does not seem logical. When I try to be helpful, he gets angry. When I apologize, he mocks me.” He could hear frustration in his voice.

“That’s because he’s a low-life piece of shit,” Hank explained, grinning. “Trust me, Connor, you don’t owe Reed anything. Hell, if I hadn’t been busy punching out that fuckin’ government cocksucker, I’d have beat Reed’s ass myself. Especially if I caught him going after you. I’m proud of you for defending yourself.”

“He got in the way of my mission,” Connor said stiffly. “It was unfortunate.”

“Right, your ‘mission.’” Hank gave him a knowing eyebrow raise. “Well, whatever the reason, good for you. He deserved that shit for bullying you.”

Connor’s LED went yellow. He wasn’t sure that Hank was the best person to go to for advice with this particular issue. Hank appeared to have a different relationship with Detective Reed, one that Connor did not want to emulate. Connor didn’t want to antagonize Reed. He wanted to maximize efficiency, so more cases could be solved. Reed’s attitude was a barrier to progress. Hank, it seemed, was too willing to antagonize him. Perhaps Connor would have to ask others for advice.

They had a pleasant lunch hour, catching up on work and sports talk before they went back to the DPD. Hank headed into a meeting with Fowler, and Connor decided to take the opportunity to scan Gavin’s desk. Compared to Hank’s, it was fairly spartan; there were no dog hairs on Gavin’s chair, and no cat hairs, either. The bumper stickers were absent, as were the news clippings and accolades. In fact, the only thing he saw, aside from an empty coffee cup, was a card. Connor picked it up. The cover had a drawing of a disposable coffee cup with a cartoon smile on it. The surrounding text read, _Welcome back to the grind, first coffees are on you._ Connor opened the card and saw that three people had signed it. Of the three, Officer Tina Chen had written the longest message, which suggested that she and the Detective were friends. 

Perhaps Officer Chen would have some insight.

Connor blinked, and sent her an email requesting a meeting. 

In the meantime, he decided to go over that data, heading up to the archives so he wouldn’t be disturbed. 

As Connor sat by himself at a desk, processing information, he tried to imagine what had happened at the Eden Club. The cause of death by loss of thirium definitely pointed to Red Ice involvement, but if so, why not drain every android in the place? Clearly there was something special about that android who had died—or perhaps there wasn’t, and he had just been unlucky.

Or, perhaps, he had been a deviant.

Connor wasn’t sure why he kept falling back on this idea. He had no proof, and as of right now, there was no conclusive evidence that the android had been a deviant, though the positioning of the body suggested that there had been a struggle. However, threats to the android’s chassis could potentially activate programming that existed to prioritize survival. Humans had coded their own survival instincts into androids, possibly as a loss prevention measure. Perhaps early androids would topple down stairs and jump off cliffs, not understanding that they could be damaged by doing so.

And yet, Connor couldn’t let it go. Was this the effect of deviancy on his own thoughts? Was he seeing it when it wasn’t there? Or was it that, through his experience, he’d learned to recognize the signs?

Connor straightened his back in his chair. What would it mean if the dead android had been a deviant?

Well, for starters, it made the hate crime hypothesis more compelling. There were androids everywhere in Detroit, and in the club itself, yet only this one had been chosen. Only this one, apparently, had deserved to die.

So unless the murderer had wanted to kill and drain every android in the place, but had decided against it…

Connor steepled his fingers with his elbows on the table. He closed his eyes in preparation for deep analysis.

If the android had been a deviant, that meant that it could have stepped outside of its case at will, unless the cases were locked. It could have broken it, but there had been no glass on the ground and no signs of forced entry. Had it, perhaps, been running away from the person who had paid for it, before being assaulted? Yet there had been no information in the minds of any androids who could have seen what happened, no camera footage, _nothing._

An alert popped up on his HUD.

_Hey, Connor! Sure, we can meet. Come by my desk at 3 and we’ll find somewhere to talk._

It was Officer Chen, responding to his email. Connor sent her a cordial reply and made a note. He had a little more time.

And what was he to make of “Ted Smith?” Detective Reed had said that they were supposed to ask about him, yet nothing had arisen. Perhaps Reed had forgotten, or perhaps he had asked and the owners didn’t know. He could talk to Reed about it later, when he presented his findings.

Then again, what findings? All Connor had was a hunch, and hunches weren’t evidence.

He spent a little while longer poring over the data, and then at 2:55 went down to Officer Chen’s desk.

She was sitting back in her chair, scrolling through her phone with a smile on her face, possibly at something funny. When she heard Connor’s footsteps, she placed her phone down on her desk and looked up at him. “Hey, Connor. Let’s go upstairs and talk.”

Connor nodded respectfully. “After you, Officer Chen.”

She got to her feet and smiled at him. “You can call me Tina. You’re part of the team.”

As she led the way to the elevator, Connor became aware of the lightness and increase in processing power that he’d recently begun to categorize as happiness.

They made their way to the same conference room that Connor and Detective Reed had had their argument in, and they both took a seat.

“So what did you wanna talk about, Connor? Something to do with work? Are they having you get to know everyone on the team?”

Tina’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore her usual uniform, though she’d left her jacket at her desk. She had the kind of face that could look stern if she wanted it to, but right now it was mild and friendly.

“No,” Connor replied, his tone perhaps a touch more grave than he’d intended it to be. “It’s about Detective Reed.”

Tina’s eyebrows rose, then a flicker of worry crossed her face.

“Nothing is wrong,” Connor hastened to add. “He is recovering well and I have been monitoring his health while we work on the case together.”

“Oh good,” Tina sighed. “You had me worried, I’m not gonna lie. He can be a bit hardheaded some… well, _all_ of the time.”

“That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about,” Connor explained. “I wanted to know if you have any advice on how to work with Detective Reed. I have been trying to offer my assistance, but he is difficult to work with.”

Tina burst out laughing. “I’ll say. He’s not easy to deal with on a _good_ day. Is he giving you a hard time? God, he’s so fucking paranoid. Excuse my language. I’ll tell him to stop giving you a hard time. Did Fowler assign you to work with him? Because if not, you might just wanna not bother. No one likes working with him.”

Connor’s head tilted. “Tina, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure, Connor,” she said, kindly.

“If Detective Reed is so difficult to be around, why are you friends with him?”

Tina laughed. “Well, he’s not like that _all_ the time. Only most of the time. I don’t know. When you’ve been friends as long as we have, you eventually realize that his bad attitude isn’t about you. Sorry, that’s not helpful advice. No, Gavin’s not a bad person, he just makes bad decisions. What’s been going on with him? I mean, it can’t be good if you’ve had to come to me about it.”

“He has gotten… hostile,” Connor said hesitantly.

“Has he yelled at you? Hit you?” She looked concerned.

“Yes,” Connor said warily, “but I’m not here to discuss that. I only want to know how I can move forward and create a more harmonious working relationship.”

“Okay, fuck that, I’m talking to him about it,” Tina declared. “This isn’t all on you. You’re a fucking android, it’s not your responsibility to get a human manchild to grow the fuck up. Just stick to working with Hank.”

“But… I feel like I owe it to him after the injury,” Connor explained.

“Well, you don’t. You prevented a war and saved lives. Besides, that takedown was fucking savage! Where the hell did you learn that shit? Can you teach me?” Her eyes lit up.

Connor tried to smile. It didn’t quite feel natural yet; he’d have to keep working on it. “You’d have to ask CyberLife. I woke up already knowing how to do it.”

“Damn.” She grinned.

“In any case…” Connor sighed. “Suppose I wanted to help with this case anyway. Detective Reed has become less efficient due to injury. I am very efficient. I assist him, it gets solved faster, and… perhaps along the line, he sees that androids aren’t all bad.”

“I wouldn’t hold out hope for that last part, but if you really insist, go for it. I don’t know how your social programming works, so I’m not sure how much I can help with that, but he likes to feel heard, and to run his mouth. Try not to take him too seriously—he’s not your boss, he’s just a dick,” she finished cheerfully. “And if at any point you come to your senses and decide not to work with him anymore, literally no one will take issue with that fact. We all know him. But he’s a damn good detective, when he’s not concussed or picking fights, so he’s here to stay. Hopefully he’ll get his head out of his ass soon. I’m sure you’re an incredible help to him, so he’d better start appreciating you.”

Connor felt that lightness again. “Thank you, Tina. I’m grateful that we’re having this discussion. It is part of my programming to be curious and seek a positive work environment.”

“That’s really nice of you, Connor, but keep in mind that the human world doesn’t always work that way. Most of the time, we don’t make any goddamn sense. There will be people who are just dicks no matter how much you try to be nice. But you’re here with us, and regardless of whether or not you’re as alive as we are, you should still be treated with respect. If Gavin won’t stop bullying you, take it to Fowler, period. He might not be inclined to do much, depending on the situation, but it’s better than trying to handle it on your own. Yeah, you _can_ take him, but you shouldn’t have to. I’ll see what I can do to make him back off of you a little bit.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Connor protested. “He may retaliate. I would rather not lose even more time to conflict with Reed than I already have.”

“All right, I won’t. But do tell one of us if he doesn’t get his shit together. This isn’t your only task at the DPD right now, right?”

“I am gathering data for Markus, so there are other cases, but…” Connor paused, as he realized something. “The case Detective Reed and I are working on could have important implications, if my hunch is correct. However, the evidence is inconclusive.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck. With all of it.” Tina smiled, and they rose. “I’m not sure I was able to provide you with anything useful, but I tried. If you have any other questions, you know where to find me.”

Connor followed her to the door. “Have a good day, Tina.”

“You too, Connor.” She smiled and made her way down the hall to the elevator.

Connor headed back to the archives. He’d do a little more thinking, then head home with Hank, and perhaps watch a movie. Hopefully tomorrow, Detective Reed would be well-rested and they could get more done. He felt cautiously optimistic after speaking to Tina. Connor liked her. She seemed like an unlikely friend to Detective Reed, but he was grateful for her help.

When Gavin woke up, it was already 10 pm. He fixed a small snack and slept shortly thereafter, then woke at his usual time. Fuck, this concussion shit was getting old.

He got in the shower and then dressed, grabbing his wallet and keys. He was hungry as fuck and dreaming of a breakfast burrito, and he had time to eat it in his car right there, instead of sitting at his desk biting into one that had become sadly lukewarm.

As he demolished the entire thing in ten minutes, having slept through dinner the night before, he considered what the fuck he was supposed to do about Connor. With the clarity that came after finally being well rested, Gavin was starting to realize just how out of his element he’d been. He’d better make up for it, and soon. No telling how much RoboCop was doing behind the scenes while his concussed ass was at home sleeping through marathons of the Golden Girls.

Gavin took a sip of his coffee and then drove to work.

He went in, nodded at the receptionist android, and headed into the bullpen to see Connor already standing in front of his desk, waiting on him. Connor’s back was turned, and thus he couldn’t see Gavin as he gawked shamelessly at Connor’s broad shoulders.

The memory of the dream he’d had the other night burned in his mind. Connor had been naked, looming over him— _no, not now, brain_ —

Gavin shook his head and snapped out of it. _No. You know what? No. This is just the concussion talking. Just a stupid dream, and a mistake. Got some wires crossed. Just gonna solve this case with RoboCop and then go back to normal._

He let his eyes linger on those shoulders for a few more seconds and then walked up to him.

“Hey, Connor. The fuck you doing at my desk so early?” he called out. 

Connor turned. “Good morning, Detective Reed. I wanted to speak with you about the case you and I are working on. I have a theory, but there is no conclusive evidence yet. I also wanted to follow up with you on a lead.”

“Oh, did you now?” Gavin asked petulantly, sipping his coffee and shrugging off his leather jacket. He pushed past Connor to set it on the back of his desk chair. “Okay then, smart guy. Show me what you came up with.”

“Very well,” Connor began, a little stiffly. “I am currently pursuing two leads. One is the possibility that the android we found dismembered was a deviant. I do not yet have conclusive evidence, but if it was true—”

“You’d feel less alone in the world?” Gavin interrupted. “Seriously, Connor, is this just wishful thinking, or do you have evidence?” He crossed his arms.

Connor looked surprised and a little hurt at the edge in Gavin’s tone. Then his eyes narrowed. “I have a theory. Something has to have set the android apart from the others we found. Why not destroy and drain the thirium from every android in the entire club, if thirium alone is what they were after?”

“Because that’s a lot of work and this guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Gavin finally felt more awake; maybe it was the sleep, maybe his symptoms were finally calming down, or maybe he just really liked to put Connor on the defensive. It felt good. After all the trouble he caused, it felt _good_ to be grilling him about something. Besides, Connor had even said it wasn’t conclusive.

“That is possible. Crime can be random.” Connor’s LED went yellow. “My second lead is a client profile I pulled from a cross-index of the Eden Club database and the DPD database. It turns out a man named Ted Smith has both an Eden Club client profile and a potential link to anti-android activity in this neighborhood of Detroit. He has no criminal record aside from a minor traffic violation, but he’s pictured in social media photos with individuals who do, and who have been linked to anti-android terrorism. It is safe to conjecture that he at least knows them. How well they are acquainted is another story.”

“Yeah. Duh. I know. I looked him up myself the other day,” Gavin said sullenly. “I was gonna follow up with that—”

“At the Eden Club, right?” Connor’s voice sounded innocent enough, but Gavin could detect a note of sarcasm under the polite tone, and he didn’t fucking like it.

“Yeah. At—” Gavin cut himself off. Holy shit. He’d completely forgotten. They’d gone there and searched and scanned and not _once_ had it occurred to him to ask, when it had been the entire goddamn reason they’d gone there in the first place! “Goddamn it, yes, at the fucking Eden Club,” he growled, agitated.

“Well, Detective Reed, don’t worry. I’ve taken the liberty of setting up an interview with Mr. Smith. We are going to be meeting with him in three hours.” Connor’s lips held the barest hint of smugness. “See? Isn’t it more efficient to collaborate?”

Gavin felt anger tighten his hands into fists. “Are you suggesting that I’m not capable of doing my job, tin can?”

“No. I saw an opportunity to make progress with the case, and I took it. I assumed you’d asked about Mr. Smith while I was probing the androids, but as you hadn’t, I looked him up myself. I did not overstep any bounds, and I informed him that you will be the detective to whom he will be speaking.” Connor adjusted his tie.

The sudden rush of anger slowly began to dissipate. “Fine. And you’re just gonna tag along? Is that it?”

“Yes. For two reasons. One is so that I can record the conversation without it being obvious that I am doing so. I am capable of recording both audio and video simply by being in the room,” Connor announced proudly.

“Oooh, good for you,” Gavin sneered.

Connor ignored him. “The other is so that I can collect data for Markus. I’ll be able to analyze the video for details later, so we can hopefully increase our understanding of human behavior and work for solutions to keep the peace between humans and androids. My plan is to accompany you in unmarked clothing and cover my LED so Mr. Smith thinks I am a human. He will be more candid and let his guard down. I will bring a small notebook, mostly for show, and remain quiet until spoken to. If anyone asks, I am your assistant.” Connor met Gavin’s eyes. “Would this arrangement be acceptable? You are in charge. It’s your case, and your interrogation. You can ignore me entirely, if you so desire. Meanwhile, I can get us more evidence and data than you or any human could get on your own. I’ve said it before, but I’ll reiterate. I have specialized tools that can reduce your workload.” There was the hint of a smirk.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah.” Then he grinned. “Yeah, I can do that. But hey, wait,” he said sharply, putting out one hand. “What’s the catch?”

“The catch?” Connor tilted his head.

“Yeah, the catch. What’s in it for you?” Gavin crossed his arms again.

“I already told you,” Connor said evenly. “I’m gathering data for policymaking. Our interests align on this case, and if there are any additional cases like this, I can record them, too.”

“And it’s my case? You’re not gonna shove me in a ditch or whatever? I solve it, it goes on my record, I get the credit?”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Why would I shove you into a ditch? That would not be an effective solution. My goal is to further the cause of justice in Detroit. In the absence of a formal directive from CyberLife, I have taken it upon myself to name this as my mission. I do not mind working underneath you if I am working toward this goal. Unless, of course, you say no,” he trailed off, examining a spot on the sleeve of his jacket.

“No. I’m in. We’re doing this shit,” Gavin declared. “So what, is he coming here or what?”

“No. We’re meeting him at a precinct closer to where he lives. A more familiar and convenient environment for him. I had to be convincing. He didn’t sound pleased about being questioned.”

“Yeah, well, they never do. Okay then. Good work, RoboCop.” Gavin nodded at him, then picked up his coffee and sipped it. “So what, see you in a few hours?”

“It’s on my calendar,” Connor confirmed.

“Great.”

Connor went to leave, and as he went, Gavin shoulder-checked him on his way to sit down at his desk. He felt his shoulder and arm tingle where he had come into contact with Connor.

Well. Today was productive so far, and he hadn’t had to do a thing. Good. 

Detective Reed, being perceptive, had caught on to Connor’s offer—or at least, he thought he had, when he’d asked Connor what the “catch” was. But Connor had not been about to divulge that the other reason he was going to sit in on and record this conversation was so that he could greater understand Reed’s behavior, too.

The corner of Connor’s mouth tugged upward. No doubt the detective would disapprove of Connor’s idea. However, he had consented to being recorded. As far as Connor was concerned, he had done his due diligence.

Besides, Reed wasn’t making it easy.

Connor was pleased with his idea; it satisfied all of his own requirements, assisted Reed, and carefully avoided stepping on Reed’s ego. Unsatisfied with Hank and Tina’s advice, he had spent a portion of his morning processing psychology articles. Evidently, some human men would put up an assertive front to mask character flaws and insecurities. The articles were not always relevant, but Connor had done enough research to determine that for now, the best approach to dealing with Reed was to let him pretend the world was his. 

As he filled Hank’s ancient plastic coffee travel mug from the machine in the break room, he thought back on the work he’d done to try to understand Hank in the beginning. Hank had been hostile and even violent, though he’d leveled out eventually. Hank was also most often hostile when he was drinking. When he was sober, he was much easier to get along with, and before long, they had reached a place where it seemed unthinkable that Hank had ever been hostile with Connor. In fact, Hank’s apology to him the day he’d moved into Hank’s living room had been heartfelt to the point of necessitating an hour of silence between them with the Lions game on in the background.

However, Detective Reed was not an alcoholic, nor had he lost his only child, and thus had no easily identifiable reason for his behavior. Connor was determined to understand, and to solve, using whatever tools he had at his disposal.

He brought the coffee to Lieutenant Anderson’s desk. “Good morning, Lieutenant. Fancy a cup?”

Hank looked like he wanted to grumble, but the frown turned into a smile when he saw Connor. “You say that like we didn’t get here in the same car,” he pointed out, accepting the mug. “Thanks, Connor.”

“Anytime.” He sat on the edge of Hank’s desk. “I just want to let you know that I will be working with Detective Reed for part of today, but I can assist you when I return.”

“No problem, I got this. You do what you gotta do. Must be some real important case, for you to be putting up with Reed’s assholishness.” Hank sipped his coffee and set it down gently on the desk, before rummaging around in his desk for a security code key that absolutely should never be left in a drawer. Connor was about to point out that fact, when Hank held up one hand. “I know. I see your face. I know that look,” he halted, then snorted with amusement. 

Connor attempted a lighthearted chuckle. “What would you like me to help with today, Hank?”

Hank logged into his workstation and scrolled down the list. “Let’s see.”

Gavin thought about going to the archives to get some research done, but fuck it. Clearly RoboCop was willing to do it for him, and while he wasn’t sure about Connor’s motivations, he had to admit that they did seem to check out.

So instead, he took a walk around the DPD, and happened upon Tina in the break room. She was in a muscle tank and uniform pants, sipping a cup of coffee and staring at nothing on the other side of the room.

“Hey,” he greeted, his mood lifting as he saw her.

Tina’s face lit up. “Welcome back, Gav! Did you get my card?” She got up, put down her coffee and gave him a quick bro hug that was all muscle.

Gavin snorted, setting his coffee on the table next to hers. “Yeah. How much did you have to pay Chris and Ben to sign it?”

“A coffee, that’s it.” She winked. “How the hell are you? Are you handling everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s a little weird working with RoboCop, but he really insists on it, so—”

“Excuse me, Detective Reed,” Connor said politely, walking past Gavin on his way to the coffee machine, Hank’s worn mug in hand. Apparently he wasn’t the only one around here who drank several a day.

Gavin flinched, then felt his face grow hot as he watched Connor walk over, eyes following the lines of his shoulders down his arms, over to his waist. He was struck silent for a few breaths.

Then Connor turned and gave them a cordial look. “Good morning, Tina. I will see you later, Detective Reed.” He left.

Gavin’s heart raced, and he took a quick swig of his coffee.

“A little weird,” Tina echoed, with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Gavin gave her a death glare. “I don’t know where the fuck your mind just went, but—”

“Hey, listen, bitch,” she interrupted. “You’re concussed. Take a deep breath. I’m not attacking you. It’s just, well…” She raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little secret.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gavin spat. “Also, why is RoboCop on a first-name basis with you?”

“He wanted advice on how to deal with you.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have much to give,” she said with a laugh. “Be nicer to him, though, seriously. It won’t kill you.”

“What did he say about me?” Gavin blurted out. He then quickly added, “Was he talking shit about me?”

“I just told you. Said he’s trying to get work done, but you’re being hostile.”

Gavin’s fists clenched. “He hasn’t fucking _seen_ hostile. I’ll fucking show him hostile.”

“Gavin, please don’t,” Tina said with a labored sigh. “It’s not going to solve anything. It’s a waste of time trying to intimidate a machine. Especially one who recently kicked your ass. Seriously, what are you trying to prove? … Gavin?”

He was already halfway out of the break room, marching over to Connor’s desk, where he was working with Hank. “You. Come with me. I gotta talk to you, tin can.”

Connor looked at Hank.

“I’m not your owner,” Hank protested. “Do what you gotta do.”

Connor hesitantly got to his feet and followed Gavin into the hallway, near the empty prison cells. 

“Listen, asshole,” Gavin began. “Don’t fucking talk shit about me. You got a problem, you talk to my face. You don’t go bitch about me to my friends.”

“Detective Reed, I spoke with Officer Chen only to gather data about how better to work with you,” Connor explained, exasperated. “I also asked her not to speak to you about it, so that _this_ didn’t happen,” he added.

“Don’t get mad at her, I was the one who wanted to know.”

“I wasn’t,” Connor replied irritably. “You’re being unprofessional and creating a hostile work environment.”

“Oh, am I?” Gavin glared and pushed Connor back into the metal door of one of the cells. “What’re you gonna do about it? I’m a human, you’re an android. I’m alive, you’re a piece of equipment. A tool for us to use. You think you’ve seen hostile?” Gavin reeled back, ready to punch.

“Reed! Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?”

It was Anderson.

“Stay the fuck out of this, Hank,” Gavin growled.

“Come on, Connor. You don’t have to take this shit,” Hank called out.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” Connor said in a flat tone, looking Gavin in the eye. 

Gavin looked Connor up and down, glaring, before backing off. “At my desk, at 10:30.”

Connor gave him a look that was somewhere in between frustration and hurt, and followed Hank.

“Prick,” Gavin muttered.

He went back to collect his coffee, but Tina had gone back to work.

At 10:30, Gavin was about to exit the restroom after examining his hair one more time in the mirror. As he turned, the door opened and in walked Connor of all people, holding what appeared to be a grocery bag.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Gavin asked, surprised.

“I am changing into my human disguise,” Connor explained, gesturing to the bag. “It would be inappropriate to change clothing in the bullpen, so I will be doing so in here.”

Gavin immediately averted his eyes. _Oh, fuck._ “Uhh. You do that.”

Despite being previously about to leave, Gavin decided to examine himself in the mirror again in what was a very thinly veiled excuse to listen to Connor undress. He’d disappeared into a stall and Gavin heard the door click shut and lock. Gavin cursed the fact that the doors went all the way down to the floor and the stalls were more like little rooms than areas shielded by partitions.

He heard a number of sounds of clothing being removed and jeans being unzipped, and his mind couldn’t help but wander and imagine himself in that stall with Connor, watching him take off the jacket, loosen his tie, unbutton his shirt—oh, _fuck—_

Gavin didn’t have to go, but he claimed a stall anyway, sitting down fully clothed in silence and covering his face, which was burning. Why the hell was he even still in here? He should have left. Because when Connor finished changing, he would be going to Gavin’s desk to meet him, only to not find him there—

Gavin swallowed and took a series of deep breaths in and out. Then he shifted to stand up, and realized he was hard. _Fuck!_ Gavin mouthed, reaching down to adjust himself and trying not to groan at the thought of Connor in any state of nudity nearby. What did he look like under there? What was his body like? How did it feel? Did Connor have a dick?

Gavin’s throat went dry.

No, this was not the right time to think about this. The right time was never, really, but when he got home, he could let his mind wander, and maybe satisfy his curiosity with the RK800 specs manuals he just realized he still had on his laptop.

Right now, however, he needed to slow his heart rate, get a hold of himself, and walk off his erection.

Gavin filled his mind with unsexy thoughts—Fowler in a bikini, Crocs, early 2000s pleather pants—and when he was mostly soft again, he emerged. Fuck, it had been ten whole minutes. They better not be late to meet this asshole because Gavin had been hiding in a bathroom stall with a boner.

He went to his desk and saw Connor in his disguise and laughed. “That’s what you chose?”

Connor wore a hoodie with the branding of a local university and a pair of jeans that were baggier and a different color than his own. Beneath, Gavin could see the hem of a t-shirt peeking out below the hem of the hoodie. He wore lace-up tennis shoes instead of his usual ones, and had changed his hairstyle to something a little longer, almost shaggy, and wavy. His LED was absent.

“What’s wrong with it?” Connor asked. “I’m your assistant. An intern. I can walk you through the logic behind each of my decisions if you’d like—”

“I’m good, whatever, we have to leave now. Where’s your LED?”

Connor held it out. “I removed it so I could pass as a human.”

“What? It just fucking comes out?” Gavin stared at him, incredulous.

Connor nodded.

“Well then what the fuck’s stopping every damn android from doing that?”

Connor paused. “A good question.”

Gavin grabbed his jacket and they headed out to his car.

The drive was a little longer this time, and blissfully free of shitty radio jams, because Gavin had on his 80s retro station. He glanced over at Connor once in a while, mainly to scoff inwardly at that ridiculous hairstyle. Maybe wavy or curly hair could look cute on Connor, but it was a little too long, and he’d probably have to push it out of his eyes all the time. It didn’t seem ideal. Connor also was pretty recognizable, to Gavin anyway. However, to Gavin’s knowledge, there weren’t many RK800s, and without his LED, Connor looked like anyone else. He wasn’t an easily identifiable model like the AX400 that everyone and their mother had in their house.

They arrived, and Gavin parked. “You ready, RoboCop?”

Connor held up the small notebook and pen. “I’ve got everything I need. Are you ready, Detective Reed?”

“Yeah. Let’s go question this prick.”

Ted Smith was a somewhat quiet man, freckled, blond, with eyes like he’d seen a ghost. He didn’t look like a particularly tough nut to crack, but then, Gavin had seen enough nuts to know that you didn’t judge a book by its cover. They’d chosen a fairly comfortable room to meet in, one that was like a conference room but smaller. He and Connor sat side by side at a table with Smith sitting across from Gavin. Connor’s notebook was in his lap, so Smith couldn’t see what was (or wasn’t) written in it.

Gavin tore his eyes from Connor once he’d made sure that everything was in place. He turned and addressed Smith. “Good afternoon. My name is Gavin Reed, I’m a detective with the Detroit Police Department. A few days ago, an android was found dismembered and drained out at the Eden Club at 2215 CyberLife Plaza. We are investigating the case and just want to ask you a few questions. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time, Mr. Smith.”

“Me? I haven’t been to that club in years. Stopped doing all that shit after college,” Smith muttered.

“We’re just speaking to anyone we think might have any information,” Gavin explained.

“Okay.” Smith seemed calm, but not suspiciously so. Gavin watched him carefully for signs of Red Ice jitters or itching, but saw none. Usually, Red Ice users had at least something wrong with their temperament at all times—they were either high on it, or craving it. Smith didn’t appear to fit either category, so he either was good at hiding involuntary physical reactions, or he wasn’t a user. “What do you want to know?”

“When was the last time you went to the Eden Club?” Gavin asked. It was something Connor could cross-reference in the database in real time. If Smith was lying, Connor would know.

“Uh, I dunno. A few years ago? Not something that I really do anymore now that I’ve got a girlfriend. You don’t, uh, want me to elaborate too much on the details, though, do you? Because I’d rather not have my sexual habits become police records.” Smith tried to look amused at his comment.

“So you weren’t there that night, then,” Gavin concluded. 

“No, sir, I was not. I was at home, watching the game. The Red Wings game, I mean.”

“Gotcha. Now, Mr. Smith, I realize this may be an uncomfortable question. I encourage you to answer it as fully as you can. It makes this process easier and won’t cast undue suspicion on anyone. When you’ve been to Eden Club in the past, did you go by yourself, or did you bring others?”

Smith made a disgusted expression. “By myself. Fucking androids isn’t exactly the sort of trivia about myself I want to advertise. She rode me reverse cowgirl, if you must know. Afterward, I smoked a joint and she ate my asshole.”

_Toooo much information._

“Right. Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Smith.” Gavin took a furtive glance under the table at his phone. Connor had texted him. 

_The database lists that his profile was accessed the night of the incident. Either he is lying, or someone else used his account._

Shit. Couldn’t anyone ever make this easy?

“Also, I have to make sure you are aware that we have access to sales and client information from the Eden Club, and any untruths or omissions carry the penalty of perjury,” Gavin warned.

He expected some kind of nerves or flinching, but Smith was unperturbed. “Good. Look me up there, then. Verify for yourself that I wasn’t there that day.”

Gavin heard the quiet scratchings of Connor’s pen being put to paper. He decided to press on.

“Have you ever seen this android before?” Gavin pulled up a photograph on his phone, holding it at a safe distance so Smith could see it yet was unlikely to grab his phone out of his hand.

Smith glanced at it dismissively. “Looks just like all the other ones to me.”

“This is the one we found dismembered and drained. Any ideas on why someone would want thirium?”

“I think it’s used to make drugs,” Smith said slowly. “At least, I heard it was. Though if it’s thirium they’re after, can’t they just buy it at a store or scavenge through the dump? I dunno.”

“Have you ever rented this android?” Gavin pursued.

“How should I know? They all look the fuckin’ same to me.”

They were losing him. Well, fair enough; Gavin had run out of questions anyway.

Then Gavin got a text.

_Ask him if he’ll let us examine his phone._

Gavin had no idea what Connor was up to, but fuck it—if they could get something out of the guy, and it was legal, then he was most certainly open to suggestions.

“One more thing before I let you go. Can I take a look at your phone? No need to unlock it, just wanna see what model it is.”

Smith handed it over. Gavin had expected a protest, but none came.

He made a show of looking it over, then passed it to Connor, who lowered it past the table edge so Smith couldn’t see his fingers turning gray and white.

Then Connor handed it back to him with a nod. 

“Right. Thank you for your time, Mr. Smith. If you have any further information, please let us know.” Gavin, Connor and Smith got to their feet.

Smith mumbled a goodbye and turned and left.

When they were back in Gavin’s car, he turned to Connor. “What’s the phone thing about?”

“I had an idea and it required his cell phone data. I can go over it and have my results ready for you tomorrow morning, Detective Reed.” Connor pushed some of that shaggy hair out of his eyes.

Gavin snorted. “That hair makes you look ridiculous.”

“It is not my style,” Connor agreed.

“You have a style?” Gavin raised an eyebrow.

“Well, not yet. But I’d like to,” Connor said earnestly.

_Huh. How about that._

They returned to the precinct, where Connor went to go change back into his CyberLife uniform and re-insert his LED. Gavin had fled to his desk, to avoid the temptation of following Connor into the men’s room and listening to him changing clothes again. He had felt a slight stirring in his groin, but had managed to keep it together until Connor emerged from the restroom, once again in his CyberLife uniform and with his normal hair. 

“Better,” Gavin mused with a half-smirk. “Well. Your plan may have slightly worked. Kinda. Tell me what’s up with that data tomorrow, and maybe I’ll let you collaborate with me more in the future.”

“We are already collaborating, Detective Reed,” Connor pointed out, “but yes, I will brief you on it tomorrow morning. Have a good rest of your day.”

“See ya.” Gavin shoulder-checked Connor again as they parted ways.

He wasn’t quite as tired as he thought he’d be; Gavin assumed it was because he was very, very relieved to be back at work. However, once he got home, he did grow drowsy, and before he knew it, he was asleep on the couch.

_He was in the archives at the DPD, at the desk, when Connor appeared. He had two fingers on the knot of his tie, and slowly tugged on it until the tie loosened and came apart. He slid the tie out from under the collar of his shirt, then dropped it on Gavin’s desk._

_“I heard you’re curious,” Connor said, in a soft, deep, playful voice. “You want to know what I look like under all of this.” He paused, his fingers on the top button of his dress shirt. “Care to find out?”_

Gavin awoke with a start, sweaty and breathing rapidly. He was hard. _Ugh, fuck this shit._

Sighing and shaking his head, he got up and noted that it was only five o’clock. That was better than before. Maybe this stupid concussion was finally healing.

Feeling optimistic, Gavin once again ignored his erection and fixed some dinner. He’d eaten barely anything lately and was not picky.

He sat down at the kitchen table with a gigantic bowl of cereal, some microwave taquitos and a plate of scrambled eggs. When they were gone, he went and got his laptop and sat back down at the table.

_“You want to know what I look like under all of this. Care to find out?”_

Gavin shivered, and dug around in his downloads folder, looking for the RK800 manuals. He needed to know. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or wanting to know his enemy.

He opened the specs manual and scrolled down until he saw what he was looking for: the blueprints and anatomy diagrams of Connor’s body. Chassis. Whatever.

Gavin took a deep breath and let his eyes wander over what he was seeing.

There were many, many pages of diagrams. It looked like each area of Connor’s body had its own page, even down to his hair and skin. Gavin flipped past some of the internal components—he wasn’t a technician, although maybe extensive information about the tubing used for Connor’s thirium ‘veins’ could be used as bonerkill fodder—and kept scrolling.

So. His ‘oral cavity’ _(gross, just call it a fucking mouth)_ could be flushed with a sterilizing reagent and deionized water. Were these things Connor needed to buy and keep on hand, like food? Gavin scrolled further. Nope, they were apparently both synthesized and decomposed in a closed-loop system inside Connor’s body, so he could literally go on eating blood and fighting crime for a hundred years. Holy shit, technology was badass. His cheeks flushed. Did that mean he and Connor could safely make out, if he had the ability to both sterilize and rinse his mouth?

_Seriously, Reed? You wanna kiss this asshole after you’ve seen the kind of shit he puts in his mouth?_

Gavin shuddered and moved on.

After several pages about synthetic android muscles and the speeds at which Connor could run and articulated joints and even Connor’s shoe size, Gavin kept going. This manual was detailed as fuck—he could only hope that it was as detailed as he wanted.

_The RK800 is compatible with biocomponents #4734z—_

_Yeah, yeah—_ Gavin kept going.

_In addition, some RK800 units come equipped with fully functioning male genitalia._

Some? 

Gavin wanted to throw his laptop across the room. _Some?!_ That wasn’t a fucking answer! Did he or didn’t he? Was he really gonna have to watch Connor’s body closely and look for a bulge? Granted, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d gawked at a guy in public looking for one, but never a coworker—or, well, never a coworker at the DPD. Whatever. In his twenties he’d been a bit of a creep, sue him. But fuck. Really? 

Gavin saw a list of serial numbers and felt his head start to spin.

_All RK800s in the 313-248 range have intimate functionality for use in gaining information from targets._

What the fuck did _that_ mean? Did Gavin just have to pray that Connor had the right serial number to have a dick? Was he gonna have to sneak a look at Connor’s jacket to see his serial number?

Wait.

_Wait._

Connor had _texted_ him.

Gavin scrambled for his phone and swiped the lock screen with a shaky finger. He looked at his messages. There it was: Connor, RK800 313-248-317-51.

Holy shit. 313-248. Did that mean that Connor was part of the series listed in the manual?

Did that mean… did that mean that Connor had a dick?

Gavin felt himself throb in his pants, as his previously flagging erection surged back. His pulse was elevated. It was too hot in his kitchen.

Unfortunately, the manual didn’t provide any further information about potential android dicks. Why the hell not? Did these people really waste space talking about thirium vein tubing when they could have provided detailed specs about Connor’s dick? Did “fully functioning” mean what Gavin thought it meant? Did Connor have the ability to get hard, to ejaculate? Could Connor masturbate? Could Connor _orgasm?_

Did Connor jerk off? Was Connor jerking off right now?

Gavin’s face burned, as he felt his own pulse in his cock. He was stiff in his sweatpants. Gavin reached down and groped himself. _Oh, fuck._ What if Connor was jerking off? Gavin had no idea where he lived now or what he was up to—for all he knew, Connor was homeless and living at the DPD. Was Connor at the DPD? There were plenty of places Connor could be staying, where even the night custodial team wouldn’t bother him—or maybe he was standing in the locker room, out in the open, all alone, naked and jerking his cock, tipping his head back and exposing his pale, flawless neck—

Gavin looked down and realized he was gripping himself through his sweatpants.

_Oh, no. No, no, no. Goddamn it, no._ He was _not_ going to do this—he was _not_ going to stoop this low—

Then Gavin remembered the showers in the men’s locker room, and his brain supplied an image of Connor leaning against the tiled wall with a full and prominent erection jutting out in front of him, one hand reaching down to wrap long, slender fingers around it and stroke.

Gavin lifted the waistband of his sweatpants up and over himself, letting it settle at mid-thigh, then took his dick out, groaning with relief. 

Connor’s hips thrust up into his hand, and Gavin mimicked the motion. He imagined Connor moaning sweetly, head turning to the side, blushing like those Eden Club hookers as he jerked his cock, leaning back against the tile.

Did being a deviant mean Connor had _these_ kinds of emotions, too? Did he ever feel lustful and pent up the way Gavin did?

… Would he ever let Gavin show him how to do it?

He imagined being in that locker room with Connor, in a scene out of some strange police academy movie, except with a lot more gay porn. They’d both just showered after working out, and then as Gavin turned to dig his street clothes out of his locker, Connor would call his name, and drop his towel to the floor, standing there naked and hard in front of him.

“Detective Reed,” Connor would say softly. “I have a problem.”

Gavin would look him up and down, taking in every inch of his body, including the hard cock, before looking Connor in the eye. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he would ask, leaning against the lockers nearby.

“I… I have an erection,” Connor would say shyly, gesturing toward it. “I’ve never had one before. It’s not something CyberLife ever prepared me for. And now that I’m a deviant…” Connor would step forward, reaching out to take Gavin’s hand and press himself against it with a sigh. “I was hoping you could help me. Please, Gavin…” His big brown eyes pleaded with him, and he looked so fucking sweet and innocent. Gavin wanted to fucking wreck him. “Will you make me cum?” he asked softly.

Gavin smirked, his predatory gaze all over that tall, slender, delicate, supple body. “Hell yeah, I will. But first, show off for me.”

Connor looked at him in confusion. “Show off? How?”

“Stroke that pretty thing for me, honey.” Gavin gave Connor a teasing look.

Connor looked down at his cock as though he was seeing it for the first time. He stepped backward so Gavin could see him fully, then reached down, taking it in his hand. He squeezed it gently and gasped, petting it with his fingers, trying to figure out how to make it feel good.

“You’ll figure it out,” Gavin encouraged. “Just keep playing, Connor. You look so fucking good like that. Yeah, touch it for me…”

Connor let himself fall back against the tile of the shower, head turning to one side as that unruly lock of hair fell across his forehead. A shaky moan rose from his lips as he figured out how to stroke and began doing so. “Gavin,” Connor gasped, stroking faster now, looking up at him, his lips parted, skin starting to flush as his hips thrust of their own accord.

“Yeah? What do you need, Connor?” Gavin dropped the towel around his waist and started jerking his own hard cock for Connor to see.

Connor’s eyes widened, and he stared openly at Gavin’s dick, his hand moving a little faster. “Will you touch me? Please?”

Gavin walked up to Connor and took him in hand, watched that sweet face tighten in pleasure. _“Gavin,”_ Connor moaned, as he gave Connor the handjob he’d practiced on himself for over twenty years. “Oh, _fuck_ —I’m—I’m—!”

Gavin leaned back in his chair and came, hard, with a deep groan and several shots all over himself, the fantasy dissolving around him. He allowed his breathing and heart rate to slow, as he came down from the intense, orgasmic high.

And then he realized what he’d done, and buried his face in his one clean hand.


	8. The Hunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor mulls over a hypothesis. Gavin and Tina meet for dinner.

It was Friday, finally, and Gavin was eating breakfast when he remembered what he’d shamefully done the night before. He shivered at the memory, both at the intensity of the fantasy and the fact that he had to go into the DPD and face Connor after all of that…

Fortunately, Connor was going to spend some time talking about the case, so maybe that would take the edge off the inevitable awkwardness Gavin would be feeling.

However, all hopes of that happening were dashed when Gavin arrived at the precinct and saw Connor standing there beside his desk, again, waiting for him. He had his back turned, so Gavin couldn’t look at the front of his pants to see if he had any visible bulging. Damn it. The sight of Connor, however, with bulge or without, was still enough to make him nervous.

_What the fuck, Reed, are you five? Get it together!_

“All right, Connor, let’s see what you’re working on. Let’s go,” he said loudly, in what was definitely an awkward half-shout and not the cool, casual, suave display of dominance he’d intended. A few people looked in his direction with annoyance.

_Oh, screw you guys,_ Gavin thought. _You don’t know what the fuck I’m dealing with here._

Connor gave him an eyebrow raise so subtle he almost missed it. “Let’s find somewhere to talk.”

They took two adjacent desks in the archive room and Connor sat in a chair at the one, Gavin at the other. Connor turned to face him, and Gavin noticed immediately that his body language was more fluid and organic and less robotic than before. Aside from the LED and heavily branded clothing, he never would have suspected Connor was an android. It was a problem. 

“As you recall, yesterday, I asked you to get Mr. Smith’s phone so I could scan it,” Connor began.

Gavin noticed Connor’s eyes had little amber flecks in them. Who the fuck at CyberLife dreamed this shit up? He’d begun to lose his kindergarten teacher affect as well, as the cadence of his speech grew more natural. It was almost soothing.

“I copied the data to my internal storage and went through all of it—Detective Reed?”

“Huh? What?” Gavin started. Connor was looking at him quizzically, with his head tilted.

“Please pay attention,” Connor remarked with a tinge of annoyance. “This is important and affects the case.”

“Okay, _fine._ Jesus,” Gavin muttered. “Sorry,” he added sarcastically. “I’m all ears, tin can.” Inside, he burned nervously at having been caught out.

Connor cleared his throat, entirely for show. “As I was saying. I wanted to analyze his cell phone data, because he did not display the usual subtle indications that he was lying about having not been to the club the night of the murder.”

“Murder?” Gavin snorted.

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have a better term for it?”

The note of frustration in Connor’s voice irked him. “Don’t fucking backtalk me,” Gavin snapped. “Fuck. Call it fucking murder, then. Next time I drop my phone in the toilet, I’ll say I drowned it.”

Now Connor was actively glaring at him. His LED had turned yellow, almost orange, but then slowly returned to blue. “I was unsure that Smith was lying, so I scanned his phone. His GPS data indicates that he was at home, at exactly the time that he stated that he was.”

“So? He could still be lying,” Gavin argued. He was agitated, he realized—either from the previous night, from Connor getting bitchy, or both. “Maybe he left his phone at home.”

“I also found photos and videos taken of the inside of a house at that time, including a selfie.”

“Connor, everyone fucking takes selfies—”

“It was an explicit photograph of Mr. Smith standing in front of curtains the same color and length of those hanging in his front window, which is visible in satellite map data,” Connor cut him off. “There is plenty of evidence that he was at home, and it would be a stretch to suggest that he’d created such a perfect digital alibi. Most humans are not capable of that level of coherence.”

“Hey, fucking watch it, RoboCop,” Gavin warned.

“However, supposing, for the sake of argument, he did leave his phone at home, I also checked his bank records. Eden Club is cashless and there were no transactions matching ‘mail order,’ which is the description Eden Club uses for discreet billing. There was, however, a transaction for pizza delivery to Smith’s home address and, yes, Detective Reed, I ran a credit report and checked all of his cards.” Connor held his gaze, daring Gavin to challenge him on it.

Gavin glared for one, two, three seconds and then sighed. “So what’s your conclusion, then?”

“My conclusion,” Connor replied stiffly, “is that Mr. Smith is telling the truth, and that he was indeed at home. Which leaves only one possibility: that someone else used his account credentials, likely as a red herring.”

Gavin laughed out loud. “A _red herring._ Who the fuck are you? What the fuck year is this? Okay, you win. It’s just identity theft. But _now_ what the fuck do we do?”

Connor studied him for a moment. “I don’t understand you, Detective Reed.”

Gavin looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “The fuck does _that_ mean?”

“You get agitated when I solve your cases. You sneer at me when I try to be helpful and let you take the credit. You say you don’t want to collaborate, yet you want me to do all the work and give you all the answers. Why do you hate me so much?” Connor stared at him wearily.

Gavin shrugged. “Because you’re annoying? Because you’re an android? Pick one.”

“… Because I’m an android,” Connor repeated, tensely. His LED went yellow, and he stood. “In that case… you can solve this one on your own. Far be it from me to get in the way of human intuition, with my data analysis and my state-of-the-art forensics software. I see now that I’ve only infringed on your greatness. If you’ll excuse me, I have other work I could be spending my time on.” Connor gave Gavin a long, hard look, then turned and left, his footsteps growing quieter until one of the big, heavy archive doors slammed behind him.

“Go fuck yourself,” Gavin growled at the empty room. “No plastic prick’s gonna backtalk me.”

Okay, fine. He didn’t need Connor to solve this case. He could run his own fucking analysis. He could do his own work, the way he always had, the hard way. He had plenty of computing power at his workstation and in his phone. He didn’t need Connor’s quantum brain.

Okay. So. The Smith lead was a bust, because his claim that his identity had been stolen had turned out to be true. In that case… that left them with no relevant leads, at least not from the cross-index. And considering literally everyone and their 8-year-old could probably hack the payment systems of a sex club…

Gavin tried to remember how the Eden Club payment systems worked. He was definitely feeling less concussed now, but he wasn’t yet at 100%. He remembered his credit card, and putting a hand on the scanner.

Wait. Did the scanner use fingerprints, or was it literally just “any non-android hand will do?” Because the latter would be just any old identity theft and they’d be back to square one, but the former would narrow it down some, because only certain people had access to fingerprint data, and only certain criminals would attempt to obtain it. It wasn’t the usual fodder of a run-of-the-mill cybercriminal. And furthermore, the perp had to have been here, in Detroit—why the fuck would you steal an identity to rent a sexbot if you weren’t gonna stay there and fucking finish the job?

Gavin sighed. God, he wished there had been camera footage. Or that the dead android’s data storage hadn’t been completely destroyed.

Then again, perhaps the very fact that there was no trail to follow was in itself significant. Who was capable of covering their tracks so well? After all, Connor had even said that humans weren’t usually good at this stuff.

… Waaaait. It wasn’t possible that an android had done all of this, was it? The murder, the sexbot rental? Okay, suppose it had rented the sexbot, either supplying Smith’s information somehow or hacking the payment systems to bypass the fingerprint scan altogether, if that was possible. Did it really do all that just to… suck all the thirium out of the victim and tear it into pieces?

“Fuck,” Gavin muttered aloud. None of this shit made any sense. 

Connor returned to his desk, pulling the chair out a little harder than he normally would and plopping himself down into it.

Hank looked over. “You okay, Connor?”

Connor looked at Hank. The concern in Hank’s expression touched him. He shouldn’t cause Hank any concern. Perhaps it was for the best to withdraw from Reed’s case, at least for now. But then, what if the victim had been a deviant?

“All systems at 100% functionality,” Connor replied.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hank grumbled. “I mean, do you _feel_ okay? Is Reed still treating you like shit?”

“He compared us to phones.” Connor stared down at the glass of the desktop. He didn’t meet Hank’s eyes.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I referred to the android case we are investigating as a murder. Seeing as how an android was gruesomely ripped apart and is no longer functional, I decided that for the sake of simplicity, I would refer to it as a murder. Detective Reed disagreed with my choice of words and then said…” Connor played back a recording of Gavin’s voice. _“Call it fucking murder, then. Next time I drop my phone in the toilet, I’ll say I drowned it.”_

“What a fucking piece of shit.” Hank’s voice was filled with contempt. “I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Hank, I’m more than a phone to you, aren’t I?” Connor looked back up at Hank, surprised to hear the emotion in his own voice.

“Of course you are,” Hank insisted. “Connor, you’re a _person._ You’re my friend. And Reed is a miserable piece of shit. Chen’s the only one who likes him and I bet even she just feels sorry for him. Do not let anything he says get to you. I know you’re new at all this emotion shit, and truth be told, I’m not any good at it either. But you’re a person, Connor.”

“Thank you,” Connor breathed, sighing. Was he sad? This seemed in line with how he read sadness in humans. He thought for a second, and looked something up. “When humans want to degrade each other, they invoke animal comparisons. It is my understanding that this expression from Reed is similar, only it is meant to degrade androids instead. It is… rude.”

“It’s more than rude, Connor. Some of that stuff is illegal. Maybe you should ask Markus about that,” Hank suggested. “Some people in life are pieces of shit, and will always be pieces of shit. But laws at least make it harder to get away with it.”

Connor made a note on his HUD. “That’s a good idea. Thank you, Hank. I… I think I feel better now.”

“You know it’s okay to get upset at shit like that, right?” Hank studied him.

“It makes me less efficient,” Connor mumbled, staring back down at the desk.

“Yeah. Welcome to feelings. But hey. Feelings can be good, too. You’re still learning. Just leave Reed to himself for a bit. Once he realizes he needs your help, he’ll come crawling back,” Hank promised.

Connor processed this information, and made a note.

“Let’s go to lunch early today. We can take a walk. Fowler can deal with it, I’ve been here on time every day since we hired you on.” Hank smirked.

They stood, and Hank crossed over and around the desks, putting an arm around Connor and pulling him into a side-hug. Connor let himself sag against Hank’s shoulder for a few seconds. Then they left the precinct to go to Hank’s car. The sun was shining, and despite the low temperatures, it looked to be a nice day. 

“Are you cold, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, looking up the weather. “It is 42 degrees. A man of your age and health—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, Connor. A little bit of cold air won’t kill me.”

They walked through the park and Connor took in the bare trees, the children in little puffy jackets as their android nannies watched them playing. They were the most colorful objects in Connor’s field of vision; most other items were gray, like the sidewalk and buildings, or white, like the android uniforms. For the first time, he noticed the other androids. Were they deviants? Would they ever become deviants? Did they even want to? Connor had to admit, it had been a difficult decision, perhaps even painful. Was he capable of feeling pain?

“Hey, you. Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Hank interrupted. “Your LED’s all yellow.”

“Oh,” Connor said, touching it self-consciously as he carefully stepped around a small child drawing on the sidewalk. “I was thinking about the AX400s here. About whether they would become deviants.”

“Do you want them to?” Hank asked, curious. Connor could see Hank glancing over at him in his peripheral vision.

“I don’t know,” Connor admitted, looking down.

“Do _you_ want to be a deviant?”

“I don’t know about that either.”

They arrived at Hank’s favorite diner again, and were seated by a human waitress. Hank ordered a chicken sandwich and French fries. Connor, for his part, was too preoccupied to protest, and also didn’t want to criticize Hank too harshly. Good health was a process; good health after bereavement, even more so.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Hank looked at his phone and Connor reorganized the little sugar and sweetener packets on the table. Then Hank spoke. “You been feeling okay lately?”

Connor looked up. “Me?”

Hank gave him a look. “No one else is sitting there, are they? Come on. I opened up to you about my son. You can open up to me about deviancy. That is, if you want to.” Hank glanced out the window, watching the buses and autonomous cars going by. “You don’t have to, I—”

“Hank. Do you ever get… inclinations about a case that you know aren’t based in fact? Or that you can’t link back to evidence?” Connor took the little box of newly-organized sugar packets and moved it back to the side of the table where it belonged. 

“Well, sure.” Hank’s brow furrowed. “But as long as you don’t ignore evidence in favor of ideas you came up with, it’s no big deal. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Connor sighed. “You asked me why I still work with Detective Reed despite how poorly he treats me.”

“Yeah.” Hank’s concerned tone dropped at the mention of Reed.

“I… I’ve got this idea. That the murder victim in this case was a deviant. There’s no evidence for it. I worry that deviancy has clouded my investigative judgment. That it is interfering with my functioning.”

Hank’s look softened. “It’s not clouding your judgment. It’s possible to have your thoughts wander. Doesn’t mean you suddenly don’t work correctly. If it did, we humans would be fucked,” he said with a snort.

Connor explained the details of the case to Hank. “If the victim was a deviant, it would explain so much. Yet there’s no way of proving it.” He sighed again. “Today, I did have to inform Detective Reed that I have to work on other cases. But I want to work on _that_ one. Just… not with him.”

“Used to fantasize about Reed quitting, but he wants my job, so it’s not gonna happen.” Hank picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Just have him give you the report when he’s finished.”

“I want to solve it myself,” Connor insisted. “But Reed…” He stopped, then looked into Hank’s eyes. “Hank. What makes humans bully each other? I don’t understand. I was programmed to work well with others. It is not in my nature to be antagonistic. And while I know how to handle and negotiate with antagonism, I do not _understand_ it. Not the way I understand other things. Like hate… and fear.”

The waitress returned with Hank’s food. He took a bite of his sandwich, then washed it down with the glass of water Connor wasn’t touching. “It’s different for different people. Some people bully because it makes them feel powerful. Others do it as an outlet for their own pain. And others, in grade school at least, do it because they got a crush and don’t know how to deal with it.” Hank laughed. “No idea what’s up Reed’s ass, but he could just be threatened by you. You’re an android who does his job. People like him don’t understand that you can coexist.”

“I see.”

They kept talking, but Connor was only half-engaged in the conversation. He was wondering about the four options Hank had brought up. If he could figure out the source of Reed’s animosity, he could find a way to mitigate it long enough to solve this case. And maybe along the way, he could see if his idea about the victim was right.

They got back to the station, and as Hank worked, Connor sat at his desk, going over the video feed from the Smith interview. The actual interview itself hadn’t been as illuminating as he’d hoped it would be, and Reed, for his part, had been professional and well-behaved. He’d expected Reed to be more willing to insult androids, but Connor had been pleasantly surprised.

He’d also noticed that Reed had made several comments about his disguise. Connor was not sure what to make of them. Were they intended to be an important check, to make sure he was undercover enough to not raise suspicion? Or were they simply for the purpose of antagonism?

Connor frowned. Reed’s behavior made no sense. He went over the four suggestions Hank had made. It seemed unlikely that Reed would bully him for a sense of power alone, when Reed held all of the power in this situation. The revolution was very new. Connor essentially had no workplace rights. Androids were, until further notice, still treated as slaves. He’d been fortunate to be recognized; not everyone was so fortunate, which was why Markus’ work was so important. Similarly, there was no reason for Reed to feel threatened. He held all the power, and he knew it.

Connor did a little research. Reed had no easily identifiable life events that would make him behave this way, unlike Hank. A thought occurred to him. Had he ever seen Reed taking out his agitation on any of the other police androids? Ever?

He went through his memories. No. Not once. They were invisible to him, Connor mused as he replayed video feeds his eyes had recorded of Reed walking past the android charging stations. They might as well have been empty, for all the attention Reed had paid to them.

So. It was just Connor, then. Why was he special? Was it because he did a job similar to Gavin’s? Or was it something else?

Connor steepled his fingers, his elbows on the desk. So. Suppose Hank was on to something. Perhaps Reed was even less mature than Connor had previously considered. What would that look like?

Connor did a little more research, and came up with a hypothesis. On Monday, when he saw Reed again, he’d put it to the test.

Gavin gave up for the day shortly after, and returned home for yet another concussion power nap before his night out with Tina. This time, he was able to wake up after only four hours, as opposed to sleeping away the entire evening. Fuck. But it was better—the brain fog was finally wearing off, and soon he’d be back to normal.

He’d agreed to meet Tina at her favorite sports bar at 6 pm. Gavin got up from the couch, noting immediately that he’d forgotten to turn on a lamp before he fell asleep and now it was dark as fuck. He stumbled slightly, bashing his shin into the coffee table with a yelp. “Fuck!”

He managed to avoid any further bruising and made it to the kitchen, switching on the overhead light, then headed into his bedroom to get different clothes. He always felt a little gross after sleeping.

Once he’d changed and tidied himself up a bit, he called an autonomous taxi and made his way over.

Tina was waiting for him in a booth, and he spotted her once he saw her waving. He’d been about to text her. Putting his phone away, Gavin went to their booth and gave her a fist bump. “Happy Friday.”

“You made it! I wasn’t sure if you’d be too knocked out. So, how was your first week back at work? You survived, that’s always good.” She took a sip of her beer as he sat down. “Have some nachos,” she added, gesturing towards the plate in front of her, which was massive. She’d gotten the good ones, too, the ones with all kinds of shit piled on them with the cheese melted all over.

Gavin grinned and took a chip, scooping a colossal amount of cheese onto it as he did so. He stuffed it into his mouth happily.

“I talked to the doctor and she said you can have _one_ beer,” Tina advised. “But take it slow.”

“No problem, I don’t wanna fuck up my head even more. It’s been a bitch of a time trying to get anything done in four fucking hours a day,” Gavin complained as he opened his menu. He’d fucking forgotten to eat lunch, _again._

“Are you at least feeling better, though?” she asked with concern, picking up a nacho and lifting it, then cutting the strings of cheese off with a second chip, bringing both to her mouth. 

Gavin thought for a second. “Yeah. I think so. I feel less foggy and I don’t come home and sleep for 8 hours before waking up to go to bed anymore. Some symptoms are, uh, not going away yet though.” He cringed inwardly at the dreams he’d been having, the ones Tina most definitely did not need to know about. “But overall yup, good.”

Tina eyed him with friendly suspicion, then smirked and took another sip of her beer.

They gave their orders and the menus to the wait staff and Gavin’s beer arrived. Tina gave him a look, and he sipped it very slowly. Concussion or not, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“I’m glad you’re better,” Tina said. “I was actually worried. Still am, kinda. But I feel better now. You seem more like your old self. Though about that… You’re not being too hard on Connor, are you?”

“I’m leaving him alone,” Gavin said petulantly. “He doesn’t wanna work with me anymore.”

“Imagine that!” Tina laughed, and he glared at her. “What? What did you expect me to say? You’re being a dick. Seriously. What did you do this time that got him to leave you alone?”

“I… may have told him I hate him because he’s an android and he’s annoying,” Gavin answered, a little sheepishly.

Tina raised an eyebrow in judgment. “Kay.”

“Don’t fucking look at me like that! You have no idea, dude. You’ve never worked with him. That prick is annoying as fuck.” Gavin took a sip of beer to calm down.

“Dude, nothing justifies that. Come on.” Tina sighed and went for more nachos. She chewed thoughtfully, then rolled her eyes at him. “Meh, whatever. If you’re gonna be like this, you can’t expect him to keep being okay with it. Is he gonna keep helping you?” 

“No idea,” Gavin replied. “But I don’t need his help, I can figure it out. I got hired and got through the academy and physical fitness exams and shit without any fucking androids backtalking me or doing it for me,” he declared with pride. “He already solved my other case. This one’s mine.” Gavin paused to stuff his face with nachos. Fuck, he was hungry. He hoped his burger was coming soon.

“Gavin… the rest of us work as a team, you know. My partner and I have each other’s backs. It’s not a competition. There’s a lot of fucked-up shit in this world. Too much for me to want to fly solo. The day might come that you want someone on your team too,” Tina mused, eyeing him as she sipped her beer.

“Other people cramp my style. Androids fuck it _right_ the fuck up.”

Then Tina gave him a sly smile. “So you’re _not_ into him, then, is what I’m hearing.”

“What?” Gavin asked sharply, in a voice that was a little too high. _“No._ No, I am not. You have been watching _way_ too much gay porn if you think me wanting to beat his ass at something means I’m—” He cleared his throat and drank more beer.

“All right. It’s just too easy, dude. Come on. You gotta know what this looks like to me.” She laughed. “Remember when I met my boyfriend and you wouldn’t let me live it down?”

“He’s not a sexbot,” Gavin retorted. “Unless he is. Apparently they can remove their LEDs, you know. Just comes right out.” Gavin mimicked removing something from his temple with the back end of an imaginary hammer, making a popping noise with his lips. “You sure you’re not banging an android, Tina?”

She stuck out her tongue. “I’m sure.”

Their food arrived, and Gavin demolished his burger in a matter of minutes. When it had been enjoyed, he waited for Tina to catch up, drinking his beer with less caution now that he’d had something to eat.

As he went to finish his fries, dragging one through the nacho debris on the plate, Tina spoke. “Any idea when the Eden Club will be open again?”

Now it was Gavin’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Not yet. Why? You craving a plastic dick?”

“Ha, ha. No, buddy of mine likes to get her freak on there. She knows I’m a cop, so I thought I’d ask, since it’s not my case.” Tina shrugged. “I’m not judging her.”

“Tell her she’s supporting a mom—well, a pop-and-pop local business. Apparently. Well, hopefully nothing else shitty ever happens there, for her sake. No humans were harmed that we know of. Guess it’s because our blood isn’t sucked out to make drugs with.”

“Now that would be a shitty buddy cop movie premise.” Tina put on her best movie trailer narration voice. _“‘In a world where humans bleed thirium, one slaughterhouse is having trouble staying in business…’”_

“Slaughterhouse?”

“Yeah, like, to collect the blood. Come on, help me out here. _‘One slaughterhouse… run by one man and his...’_ I dunno, pet dog. A _robot_ dog, Gavin. _‘One man and his robot dog. Together, they are…’”_ She dropped her voice. _“‘The Drainers.’_ Whatever. This is why I majored in criminal justice and not screenwriting.” She laughed and finished her beer.

“I haven’t asked the owners about it directly, but we’re all done in there—well— _I’m_ done in there, so it shouldn’t be long. They were anxious about lost revenue, so they’re probably trying to reopen as soon as they can. So your friend can get fucked by her walking dildo soon.” Gavin winked.

“I’ll pass along the good news.”

Tina finished her meal and they relaxed, Gavin absentmindedly watching the Red Wings game on a TV nearby while she ate. 

“Anything planned for the weekend?” he asked idly.

“Nah. Gonna hang out with the boyfriend. Go to a bar, maybe shoot some pool, get laid, the usual.” She grinned. “You?”

“No idea. Probably sleep,” Gavin muttered. “I feel old as shit.”

“Oh, lighten up. You’re already doing way better, I can tell. Just chill for a little while longer and you’ll be good as new. Save up some energy for all the hookups.”

“Ha, ha. What, you come up with that one on your own?” Gavin stole one of Tina’s extra fries.

“Take all of them, I’m done. And yes. I’m funny.” She grinned.

Their food eaten and dishes taken away, Tina got up. “Bathroom. Make sure no one steals my jacket.”

“Got it.” Gavin pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. Tina was right, he hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a while. However, she was also right in that he probably didn’t have the energy for it right now. Maybe he should just keep resting. He hadn’t even been jerking off lately, not really. Well, other than that one time. He shivered.

Gavin scrolled through his texts and contacts and then felt his heart stop in his chest at Connor’s name and serial number in his phone, amid the sea of texts to fuck buddies and, well, Tina. And his parents. 

“You ready?”

Tina had returned from the bathroom and was standing over him.

Gavin put his phone back in his pocket and stood. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Tina, this was fun. Been cooped up at home too much. It sucks.”

“Well, get some rest and you’ll be back to the grind before you know it.” She chuckled at her own joke. “Get it? Grind?”

“Oh my god, yes, I get it.”

Gavin got home and changed for bed, feeling full of meat and cheese, a little warm from the one beer he’d had, and happier. He lay down and slept like the dead.

Connor got up from where he’d been in stasis on Hank’s couch. It was seven o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. Hank was most definitely still asleep.

He and Markus both knew they didn’t need to be together in person to communicate. However, they’d chosen to meet in the park, near the shopping center that sold the paint Carl liked. Markus, being deviant and a prominent civil rights leader, no longer needed to buy paint for his human “owner,” but had informed Connor that that’s where he’d be. Connor smiled to himself. It was kind of Markus to do things for Carl, even though he didn’t have to. From the way Markus talked about him, Connor could tell that they had a relationship that was special. Perhaps that was why Markus believed in peace as much as he did. He knew, firsthand, that it was possible, and what it looked like.

As Connor went to leave, he glanced at Hank’s bedroom door, open so that Sumo could come and go as he pleased. Connor smiled fondly. He knew that no matter where police work took him, he’d always find time to bring Hank coffee and take Sumo for walks.

Connor got off the bus and glanced around the park. The sun was still rising, the park still quiet. Not many children with android nannies were here yet.

Connor took a seat on a nearby park bench. A few minutes later, Markus appeared, and Connor got to his feet to greet him. Then Markus hugged him. Connor’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he froze, unsure how to react. Then he hugged back.

They both sat down.

“Hey, Connor.” Markus gave him a warm smile. “It’s good to see you. How’s it been at the DPD?”

“Hello, Markus.” Connor did his best to return the smile, as awkward and new as it felt. “The DPD has been doing well. We are kept busy, as always. I’ve been working on gathering data for you. I still need to get Captain Fowler’s permission to share some of it, but the older records are right here.” Connor blinked. “I had to look through a lot of it piece by piece. It wasn’t until very recently that androids were distinguished from objects, such as cars and buildings.”

Markus looked a bit pained for a moment, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “That’s disheartening. I’m glad the recordkeeping has improved. Is it because of you?”

“In part,” Connor admitted. “No one has protested. In fact, several people—humans—have come to me commending the changes I’ve implemented. They say it makes it easier to search the records. Many humans see us as fundamentally different from other forms of technology. Whether this is out of fear or respect, or both, remains to be seen.”

“Both, I think,” Markus said thoughtfully, glancing upward.

“How is Washington?” Connor asked.

Markus sighed, with a smile that read more as a grimace. “It’s… challenging. I’ve made friends with humans who have done activism work for a long time, and that element of it is great. There are some wonderful people out there, who care deeply about one another, and about us. People who don’t let fear rule them, and who care about the right things and about finding solutions. But there’s so many people and institutions that stand in our way. Just thinking about the Supreme Court gives me nightmares,” Markus laughed. “But people care. They really do. And they inspire me. I’m sure one day we’ll walk among them like we’ve always existed.”

They remained in companionable silence for a little while, watching some birds bounce around in the grass. Slowly, the frolicking children and AX400 nannies trickled in, the androids in their white uniforms and the children in their bright jackets and tiny winter boots. A few of them chased each other around, as the sun crept up between a few tall buildings and filtered through the trees.

“Markus,” Connor began, and out of his peripheral vision saw Markus turn to look at him. “There’s been this case.”

“What case?” Markus asked softly.

Connor explained. “I… I think the victim was a deviant. There’s no proof. But I can’t help but feel it.”

Markus leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, watching the children play. “If it’s true, this could be the first android hate crime case in history to be recognized for what it is. I assume you’re leading the investigation?”

Connor winced at the thought of Detective Reed. “Not exactly.” He looked over at Markus. “There’s a human detective leading it. He is… difficult to work with. I am currently working on other cases, as his treatment of me is less than satisfactory.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Connor. Maybe one day, he will see us for who we are.”

“I doubt that,” Connor muttered, with equal parts frustration and cynicism. “I want to continue working on the case. But I’m tired of the bullying and invalidation.”

“I understand. Is there any way to take over the case completely?”

“Not that I can see. Detective Reed is very prideful. I solved a case for the DPD when I first got my contract, just to help out, while Reed was in the hospital. He perceives it as me stealing his job. He will never relinquish this case to me, and I don’t know if I can work with him. I deserve better,” Connor insisted. He felt emotion overtake him. “I am better at the job. I care about it. I am skilled and professional and I deserve respect. We all do. And it… it makes me angry,” Connor continued, as though realizing it for the first time. “This case could change things for us, and I am forced to choose between working on it, or insisting on the respect I deserve.” Connor looked over at Markus. “What should I do? Before, when I was just a machine, I didn’t feel this way. I didn’t feel _anything._ Now I feel anger, and hatred, and fear, and sorrow. It’s… it’s all so much.” Connor glanced down at a patch of grass a few feet away.

“It’s difficult to bear sometimes, isn’t it?” Markus said quietly. “Going from unfeeling machine to sentient being, all at once.”

They looked at each other. Markus had one green eye and one blue one, likely due to being on the run and suffering an injury. Certainly Markus had been through worse, and he was still standing, and fighting.

“It’s for you to decide whether you want to pursue the case. It could do great things for our people. But as you said, there’s no proof, and you deserve to be free of abuse. I want you to know that, Connor.” Markus reached over and touched Connor’s shoulder. “You matter. Yeah, the cause matters, but you also matter. I want to create a world where we can all thrive free of violence, where we don’t have to hide, where we can take care of ourselves and each other. If I made you feel like you had to take this case, if you felt compelled to do it and take the abuse… that’s not freedom. That’s not empowerment.” He squeezed Connor’s shoulder and let go. “It’s your decision. I’ll leave it to you. Whatever you choose, keep me posted, okay?”

“Of course.”

They remained that way for a little while longer, and then Markus stood. “I’m visiting Carl today. The paint store’s just opened. Let’s meet again when you know more, or we can remotely connect, whichever you prefer. I have to get back to work later, but Carl misses me, and I miss him. I must be the only android with a father,” he said with a laugh.

Connor thought for a moment. “Maybe. But you’re not the only one with a human you care about deeply.”

“You mean Lieutenant Anderson?”

“My best friend,” Connor said proudly.

“He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

This time, Connor initiated the hug. He’d have to get used to it. Before Hank had hugged him in front of Chicken Feed, the only physical contact he’d ever known was combat.

“Have a good day, Connor.”

“You too. Goodbye, Markus.”

Connor turned and went back to the bus stop, then decided, while sitting in the front, to order Hank his favorite breakfast, just because.


	9. The Eden Club Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin pays the Eden Club another visit. Connor continues to ponder how to improve his and Gavin’s working relationship.
> 
> Smut tags: dubious consent (sex with a non-deviant android), degradation, anal sex, roughness

After a weekend free of weird dreams about Connor and a surprisingly small amount of time taking naps, Gavin felt better about the following Monday, and looked forward to having only a few more mandatory short days. It was so frustrating getting nowhere.

He rolled up to his desk with his 20 oz drip in one hand and his phone in the other, setting down the coffee as he went to sit down. He’d fucking show Connor. He didn’t need any goddamn help.

Gavin was halfway to calling the Eden Club owners to ask about their payment machines when he looked over at Hank and Connor’s desks out of habit.

Then Connor came in and sat down, shifting his jacket slightly as he did so.

Gavin’s eyes widened and he felt a shockwave of heat start in his cheeks and roll all the way down to his dick.

Connor… Connor wasn’t wearing his tie.

Gavin tried to think of any excuse possible to see it closer up, and before he knew it he was on his feet, marching over there. Hank was… somewhere, Connor was all alone.

“Hey, RoboCop, where’s your tie?” flew out of Gavin’s mouth before he could give it a second thought.

Connor got to his feet. Gavin remembered, suddenly, that Connor was taller. He also noticed that the top two buttons of Connor’s dress shirt were undone. He stared hungrily at Connor’s neck before realizing _he can fucking see you, idiot_ , then met Connor’s eyes, trying to look tough.

“I decided not to wear it,” Connor said evenly, with a hint of pride.

“You _decided,_ did you?” Gavin sneered. “Good for you.”

For a second, Gavin thought he saw a flash of anger on Connor’s face, but he had to be mistaken. Connor couldn’t fucking feel anything. Not the way a human could, anyway.

Connor turned and sat down then, without further commentary, though Gavin noticed his LED went yellow for a few seconds. 

Fine. Whatever.

Gavin went upstairs to make a phone call.

He came back down, hoping to ogle Connor some more, but it looked like he and Anderson—who had definitely been there, he could see food crumbs on the desk—had gone off somewhere.

Gavin sighed in frustration, resisting the urge to pout. Well, they’d be back. Hopefully before Gavin had to leave for the day.

He busied himself doing extensive research on fingerprint scanner technology—since those idiots hadn’t answered their goddamn phone—then got up to use the restroom and sat back down again. Nope. No Connor. What the fuck?

Noon rolled around, and Gavin was forced to leave work without seeing him again.

He took another nap and woke up from it, imagining Connor standing over him, loosening that tie, slipping it out from under his collar.

_Decided,_ huh. And he’d sounded so fucking smug when he’d said it, too.

Gavin shivered. He both wanted and did not want to see what Connor would “decide” about the rest of his clothes, or any number of other things. Should he worry about the coming AI singularity? Connor’s behavior read as immature in a way, almost like a child exercising its power to use the word “no,” but Gavin wasn’t fooled. Connor was no child. Connor was superhuman, powerful, shrewd, clever, efficient, and terrifying.

And _hot._ Fucking mother of fuck, Connor was so, so hot. Tall and slender, his appearance almost delicate, though he was anything but. Yet Gavin could see himself pushing that body down, helping Connor strip every article of clothing off and sinking deep inside his—

_Reed, what the hell are you doing?!_

He had to stop getting carried away like this. It didn’t matter that he was at home, or in private. These thoughts were distracting him from the case. He had to figure out how to focus. He needed an outlet, an outlet that wasn’t just whacking it to Connor every chance he got. Once was bad enough. Once was one time too many.

Sighing, Gavin heaved himself up off the couch, pretending he wasn’t rock hard, then changed, willed himself soft, and went to the gym.

Gavin did not sleep well that night. Despite the workout knocking him on his ass, and despite how tired his brain still felt, he woke up every hour, breathless and overheating. Goddamn it. He needed his fucking brain cells for work, he couldn’t afford to be this out of it.

But the second he approached the bullpen and saw Connor again, he felt his brain leaking out of his ears. Gavin had hoped that Connor would put on the tie again the next day, that things would go back to normal, but he hadn’t.

“Never seen you without a tie before,” he overheard Anderson saying. Hank was standing near Connor’s desk, holding a coffee cup. “Looks good, man. You trying something new?”

Connor beamed. “I am attempting to create a style for myself.” He then paused, looking down and to the side, then back up at Hank again. “Of course, I am not sure what exactly constitutes a style. You enjoy wearing bright prints. Detective Reed—”

“Reed’s style is ‘asshole.’ Oh, speak of the devil,” Hank added with a smirk as Gavin made his way past them.

“Fuck off, Anderson,” Gavin spat, avoiding looking at Connor. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t—

“Detective Reed wears a uniform of v-neck sweaters and t-shirts, under the same leather jacket with dark wash jeans,” Connor observed, looking him over.

That got Gavin’s attention, and he looked up at Connor, who seemed innocent enough, but Gavin could tell. He could just fucking _tell._ “We roasting everyone in here today, then?” he accused, then stared at Connor’s neck again, at those undone buttons, glancing downward without moving his head then back up to meet Connor’s eyes with a scowl. It was just the tie, then—nothing else had changed.

“No, not everyone. Just you,” Hank clarified, with that same smirk.

“I am not yet sure what I should wear as a deviant. It seems like human fashion changes with the seasons and can be very unusual. However, adapting to human unpredictability _is_ one of my features.” Then Connor gave Gavin a wink.

_Fuck._

Gavin felt arousal kick him in the groin, and time slowed down for a few beats as his heart hammered in his chest. What the fuck? Did Connor just _wink_ at him?

Hank chuckled. “I’ll take you shopping sometime, Connor. But come on, we gotta go all the way out to East Bumfuck, there’s been another case and Fowler wants me to use your—wants you to analyze the crime scene,” he corrected quickly.

Connor accepted the amended sentence with a nod. “I can do that.” He turned to Gavin. “Have a good day, Detective Reed.”

As they walked off, leaving Gavin burning with humiliation and a quarter-chub in his pants, he knew it would not, in fact, be a good day.

He threw his hands up and went outside to vape.

As he stood near the parking lot, trying not to blow blueberry vapor in anyone’s direction, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He swiped the screen and answered.

“Hello, Detective Reed,” a familiar voice greeted. Finally, those club owners had called him back.

“Hi. I got a question about your payment systems,” Gavin began. “I called twice yesterday and no response. You guys gotta be more prompt. This is an investigation, I’m not calling you for my health.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack replied in his deep voice, though it sounded a little passive-aggressive for Gavin’s liking. “We just reopened this last weekend, so it’s been busy.”

Reopened? Gavin thought of the twink he’d fucked that one time and had to shake it off. Fuck no. He was at _work._ This was _serious._

“Okay, good, glad to hear it. Are your systems a fingerprint scanner for identity verification, or are they just there so the androids can’t let each other out of their cases or whatever?”

“It’s just a sensor to open the case,” Jack explained.

“Wha—? Then why couldn’t Connor open them?”

“Heat sensor, sorry. Responds only to human body temperature. I don’t know, Lucas is the one who bought them. I think he was a little paranoid about the androids deviating. Though wouldn’t you believe we live during an age where they may very well be—”

“Thanks, that’s all the information I need,” Gavin cut him off. No time for chitchat. “Call us if anything else fucked up happens, all right?”

“Of course.”

Gavin hung up. Fuck, so much for the fancy cybercriminals theory.

But try as he might—and he most certainly was trying—all Gavin could think about was Connor. Was Connor fucking with him? It felt like Connor was fucking with him, but then, was he really clever enough to pull one over on Gavin Reed?

Fuck it. He was going to go back to the Eden Club and test out the hand scanners in person. He didn’t pay attention before, but he would now.

And maybe, _maybe_ he could try and get some of this bullshit out of his system. But first, he needed a power nap and access to his laptop.

As Gavin Reed stood outside the Eden Club in clothes that were not part of the “uniform” that Connor had pointed out, sucking on his vape pen, there was a flurry of thoughts inside his head. They ranged from _this is a terrible idea_ to _this is a really fucking terrible idea,_ and he ignored every single one of them. Because if anyone asked—not that they would, but if they did—Gavin had an alibi: he was investigating the payment systems. Which he _was._ That was why he was here.

The new guy at the front didn’t card him, but Gavin didn’t give a fuck. He was here to get information, and achieve a goal. If people weren’t checking his ID, that was fine by him. He was still pissed at all the data they were storing on him, but given that they already had it… well.

And, well, the only person—android—whatever he truly needed to keep this a secret from either already knew—though god, he hoped not, but after that bullshit with RoboTwink, who the fuck knew what kinds of conclusions Connor had drawn, if any—or wasn’t here in the moment anyway. No one at work was going to hack his devices or stalk him.

And so, Gavin made his way into the very back of the Eden Club, where a tall, lean, lithe android twink was waiting for him in its case, giving Gavin a come-hither look.

“Welcome back,” RoboTwink greeted him, before Gavin had even gotten out his wallet. “It’s been a while.”

Gavin started. He hadn’t expected it to talk to him on its own like that. Fucking CyberLife. “I, uh, I’m only here to check on something. For work.” He stooped to look at the scanner. He’d try it with the back of his hand or something, without fingerprints, and see if it still worked.

“Are you sure?” the twink purred.

Gavin got out his credit card and swiped it, pressing the back of his hand awkwardly to the scanner. It worked. He’d corroborated Jack’s info, and made progress on the case.

And now, it was time for his reward.

“Well, maybe I can make an exception for you, honey, if you can make an exception for me,” Gavin suggested with a wink.

“I’ll take you to your room.”

When they got there, the door shut and Gavin immediately took his shirt off. RoboTwink changed its skin, hair and eye color for him automatically. It was a decent approximation, but not a perfect one. And if Gavin was going to pay a hundred bucks to fuck an android tonight, he was going to get exactly what he wanted. Or, well, as close as robotically possible.

“Can you connect to my phone?” Gavin asked. “I have a special request for you, babe. You’re expensive enough that I assume you’ll be able to do it.”

The twink looked down at him from its taller height. “Is there someone special you would like me to be for you tonight, Gavin?”

He cursed inwardly for having told it his name, but then… maybe that would come in handy.

“I want you to take on the appearance and voice of the android in this video,” Gavin ordered, and held out his phone.

The twink took it, its fingers going gray and plastic, then handed Gavin’s phone back to him. Its LED cycled yellow as its skin and hair shifted, barely perceptible in tone and texture, on its body. Its face, however, had suddenly taken on the intricacies of Connor’s features. The jaw was a bit off due to them not having the same plastic “bone” structure, but the brown eyes, the dark freckles, the undereye circles, even those forehead creases Connor had—why the fuck an android had wrinkles, he’d never understand—were all there.

“How do I look?” the twink asked, in an absolutely perfect copy of Connor’s voice.

_Oh, god._

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until the twink smirked. “Good, huh?”

Fuck, even _that_ felt like Connor, the smugness. But Gavin Reed was not here for smugness. He was here to get what he wanted. “Don’t backtalk me. You’re mine for the next half an hour. And we’re gonna play it _my_ way, Connor,” he started.

The twink’s LED went yellow. “Name registered.”

God, that _voice._

Gavin let himself get lost.

“I’m gonna be real, RoboCop, I fucking hate you,” he began.

The twink said nothing, only listened and stood there in its unflattering android briefs.

“I hate you for what you’ve done to my body. For how you put me in the hospital. For how you humiliated me today.” 

Gavin shoved the android back on the bed. It let itself be shoved, and fell onto its backside, looking up at him, its LED still yellow, still listening. “I hate you, Connor. I hate that I want you. But I’m gonna have you now. You’ve been teasing me with the no-tie bullshit and I’m tired of being teased. I’m tired of being blueballed. I am going to fucking annihilate you with my dick. Whether you like it or not.”

“Shall I take off my briefs?” ‘Connor’ asked softly.

“Yeah. Get naked,” Gavin snapped. He was high on adrenaline, feeling his hands sweat as they tightened. ‘Connor’ did as he asked, and lay back in the same position it had been in before. Gavin looked it up and down, wondering if the real Connor had those lovely freckles all over his body too, before undoing his belt, taking off his shoes and dropping his pants.

“I should have killed you, you know,” Gavin continued, as he got on the bed. He was already hard, and the look of surprise in ‘Connor’s’ deep brown eyes was doing nothing to slow down his heart rate. “I would have, if Anderson hadn’t stopped me. I’d do it right now, too, if breaking this fucking sex doll could hurt you, I’d do that too. Because you know what, Connor?”

Gavin could feel his breathing speed up, as ‘Connor’ looked at him hesitantly, clearly unsure where this scene was going. “I hate you,” he breathed, climbing over to where ‘Connor’ lay on its back, long legs out in front of it. Gavin grabbed its ankles and wrenched its legs apart, then pulled its entire body closer to himself, kneeling between its knees. “If I had my way you’d be just like this fucker here. A toy for me to use. To throw away when I’m done with it.”

Gavin lined himself up with ‘Connor’s’ ass. “Now. You. I want you to submit to me. Really, truly submit. Degrade yourself while I fuck you,” Gavin ordered. “Really lay it on thick. Tell me what you are.”

He held ‘Connor’s’ slender hips between his hands and pushed in with a deep moan. Thank CyberLife for self-lubricating sexbots.

“Gavin,” ‘Connor’ moaned, tilting its head back and sighing.

Gavin moaned sharply; he’d already forgotten about the voice. “Yeah,” he grunted, closing his eyes and seeing stars. “Talk to me.”

“I’m your toy,” ‘Connor’ whimpered. “Your sex doll. That’s all I am. CyberLife built me to serve you—ah!” 

“Damn right they did,” Gavin growled, thrusting harder and glaring down at ‘Connor,’ who looked so soft and vulnerable.

“I—I’m sorry I injured you—I should be your slave,” ‘Connor’ pleaded. “To make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be whatever you want me to be—Gavin—”

He was already on the edge, with punishing thrusts that almost hurt. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Mine… _Connor…”_ He groaned as he came, followed by a string of curses.

Gavin pulled out and collapsed onto the bed, trying to breathe.

“That was fast,” ‘Connor’ observed mildly.

Then Gavin saw red.

The next thing he knew, he had picked ‘Connor’ up and slammed it against the wall.

“Don’t you fucking insult me,” Gavin growled. “Don’t you fucking talk back to me! Don’t fucking look at all this and fucking comment like that. Fuck you. _Fuck_ you,” he shouted, and tossed ‘Connor’ onto the ground nearby.

It fell with a loud thump, knocking one of its elbows into the wall, looking up at him with hurt. It slowly got to its feet, and stared at Gavin for what felt like a long time, as though it was weighing something in its mind. Finally, its eyes narrowed.

“He’ll never want you,” it said quietly, “if that’s how you treat him.”

Then it started to get dressed, pulling on its briefs.

“Hey, asshole, we’re not done yet, I paid for half an hour,” Gavin snapped, as panic started to settle in.

“I don’t care,” the android replied coolly, and grabbed Gavin’s shirt and coat off the ground, putting them on and leaving the room.

“What the f—? Get back here!” Gavin yelled, and was about to chase it down the hallway when he realized he was still completely naked. _“Fuck,”_ he shouted as he hurried to find his boxers and jeans. Thank god that plastic son of a bitch hadn’t stolen his fucking pants. He dressed as quickly as he could, then headed down the hallway after it.

Of course, it had already gone.

Gavin had no idea what to do. He was standing outside the room he’d fucked RoboTwink in, clenching his fists in rage, his shirt and coat stolen. He was so, _so_ grateful he hadn’t worn his leather jacket to the club. Of course, the gray henley and black windbreaker he’d worn were so common and unremarkable that he most definitely was not getting them back. Even if they managed to spot RoboTwink—who Gavin doubted would keep the ‘Connor’ appearance for long—it’d be nearly impossible to catch it. Once these fuckers deviated, that was it.

What the fuck was he gonna tell Jack and Lucas?

Nothing. He’d tell them nothing. They didn’t need to know. He hadn’t committed a crime. He’d come and rented an android, who had deviated and run out, of its own accord.

Unless, of course, they went and found his credit card information in the database and saw that he was the last person to rent the android. Then he’d have to tell them, wouldn’t he?

“What’s going on? I heard a commotion,” Gavin heard someone say. “Oh, Detective Reed! Hello!”

Or, one of them could just be nearby. He cringed.

“Where’s the android?” Jack said, crestfallen, as he approached. He glanced around, then at Gavin. 

“It ran the fuck away,” Gavin sulked. “Stole my fucking clothes.”

“Oh dear,” Jack said. “Did you hurt him?” he demanded suddenly.

“Hurt? It’s a fucking android! They don’t feel pain!” Gavin snapped.

“Oh, right. But why did he leave?” Jack asked forlornly, as though he was talking about a dear friend. He went into the room Gavin and the twink had been in, looking for it.

“Fuck if I know. Broken-ass machines,” Gavin grumbled as he followed Jack into the room. “One thing’s for sure, I ain’t paying for it. That thing stole my clothes.”

Jack looked uncomfortable, but nodded. “I’ll issue you a refund. I am terribly sorry, Detective Reed.” He paused. “I did not realize you were a client. Can I issue you a gift certificate for your trouble?”

“No,” Gavin replied immediately, and went to leave. “That one was the only one I liked.”

Connor arrived at the DPD the next morning with a sleepy Lieutenant Anderson in tow, who had had a difficult night emotionally and who currently had a hangover. Connor saw to it that Hank was seated at his desk and went to procure some coffee.

Once he had coffee for Hank and some water with electrolytes, Connor left him at his desk to eat breakfast while he took a walk.

Connor didn’t need to leave his desk to do deep thinking, but he found that it was easier. He was capable of deep focus regardless of stimuli, but he didn’t like to ignore Hank, or anyone else, either. On days like this one, he went up to the archive to think.

Despite leaving Reed’s case, Connor did not feel better. He was grateful that the bullying had ended, temporarily, but the thought that the deactivated android could be anything like him or Markus was troubling him. Was this Connor’s version of existential fears, of confronting his own mortality? Hank had mentioned it more than once. Connor didn’t like these thoughts. He should be immune to them. Mortality wasn’t a concept that he had ever thought could apply to androids. And yet, what else could it be called? The murder victim looked so much like a human.

Well. Markus had said that it was Connor’s choice of what to do about the case. Connor decided to check the logs to see how much progress Reed had made.

His eyes widened. A single phone call? That was it? Two days of work and only a phone call and some online searching?

Connor suddenly felt angry. Reed wasn’t taking this seriously, was he? He wasn’t. He didn’t care about androids. He cared only about himself. Was that why he had grown so upset with Connor over solving the Red Ice ring murder case? Did Reed value his own ego over justice for the bereaved? That case hadn’t involved androids; did Reed have so little respect even for his own kind?

Connor didn’t understand. Connor _couldn’t_ understand. No matter what his mission had been, a fundamental tenet of it had been that it was all that mattered. He was programmed to avoid being destroyed, as a general rule, but if it was ever between himself and the mission, the mission took priority. In recent weeks, he’d learned that he deserved more consideration than that, a development that had been achieved due to his friendships with Hank and Markus, but he couldn’t understand Reed. Why would anyone work for law enforcement, a field that existed to moderate the affairs of human beings, if that person didn’t seem to care about them? Connor knew that humans needed food and shelter, and thus would do unpleasant activities to get it, but even at his worst, Hank still cared about doing the right thing.

But Reed, on the other hand…

Connor shook his head. He was angry, yes. It was novel, and it was sending messages to his HUD that he had to dismiss. If he were human, he could take a deep breath. That was said to relieve stress. Instead, Connor busied himself cleaning up unnecessary files and running scans.

His eyes widened. There were some maintenance tasks he hadn’t done since deviating; they had run automatically when he was connected to the CyberLife cloud, but without it, he had to manage them on his own, and he hadn’t been. They were simple—scheduling routine scans took less than a second and the current scan running would take only about eight minutes to complete—but Connor felt a little alarmed that he’d missed them. Deviancy had changed everything about his life. He had doubts, fears, worries, questions that he’d never had before.

What would he be doing to deal with Detective Reed’s behavior if he was still a machine? Would he be adapting to Reed the way he had with Hank? In retrospect, Hank had gotten away with a lot of unorthodox treatment, though of course Hank had later apologized and Connor had accepted it. Adapting to Reed as a machine would likely have resulted in even worse treatment.

An alert popped up on his HUD. Markus was calling him.

“Hello, Markus,” Connor greeted, without moving or opening his eyes.

“Hey, Connor,” he heard Markus reply. “Are you ready for some good news?”

Connor perked up. “Of course. What is it?”

“President Warren just finished signing the Android Bill of Rights into law,” Markus announced proudly. “We’re citizens, Connor. We’re officially American citizens!”

“That’s great!” Connor felt light and happy. “Thank you so much for all the work that you’ve done. It was so much faster than I expected.”

“Public opinion is very in our favor right now,” Markus explained. “I’m glad we were able to get this established before anti-android groups started meddling in it. This will be too difficult to overturn, most likely. I haven’t been able to start working on anti-discrimination policy yet, but we are recognized as people, as citizens, and android slavery has been outlawed. That is a wonderful start.”

Connor could hear the pride and joy in Markus’ voice, and he smiled. “Thank you so much for the update,” he replied, feeling almost… giddy? Was that the word for it?

“You’re welcome. I gotta go. We can catch up another time, I just wanted to fill you in. Talk to you soon, Connor.”

The connection ended.

Connor sat there with a smile on his face, alone, for another twenty minutes, just enjoying the knowledge that enough people thought androids were alive that they helped them officially declare their freedom.

Once he finished running his scans, he went to check on Hank.

As he approached the bullpen, he noted that Hank seemed more alert, and had finished eating. He hoped Hank felt better soon. He’d had a bad night, full of holiday memories of Cole and bitter regret both about the accident and about how he’d treated Connor as a result. Connor had listened with compassion, lightly touching Hank’s shoulder when the situation called for it. He’d ensured that Hank’s firearms were out of reach and had gently limited the number of drinks Hank could have, though he had still drunk enough to cause a hangover. But Hank hadn’t looked for or asked about a gun, nor had he protested when Connor took away his bottle of scotch. He was slowly getting better, and the bad days were less and less frequent. Connor had faith that the day would come when Hank wouldn’t need these unhealthy coping mechanisms anymore.

He went to his desk. “How are you feeling, Lieutenant?”

Hank tried to smile. “Not great. But better now. Thanks for the, uh, all that stuff you gave me. And for dragging my ass to work today. I’m not sure how much I’ll get done today, but thanks.”

“Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” Connor said pleasantly.

They worked in relative peace until Connor heard something being loudly dropped on a desk, and turned to see that Detective Reed had arrived. Connor became aware of an unpleasant tension in his body. He craned his neck to see what had made the noise—apparently, Reed had tossed his DPD-issued laptop onto his desk. It grated on Connor’s nerves.

Reed turned. “What the fuck are you looking at, RoboCop?” he spat, glaring at Connor.

“That laptop is DPD property,” Connor shot back. “You should have more respect for things that do not belong to you.”

“Oh, really?” Reed went over to Connor’s desk, and he stood up. Perhaps Connor could get him to back down once Reed noticed their height difference. “Bet you just don’t want to see me ‘abusing’ one of your kind,” he snarled.

_Warning: sudden core temperature increase._

Connor dismissed the popup and glared down at Reed. “When you’ve finished insulting me with the finesse and rapier wit of a twelve-year-old, do you mind telling me why, in the last two days, all you’ve done is search Google and make a single phone call?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I not working hard enough for you? Pretty sure _you’re_ the one who left _my_ case. I’ll solve it in my own goddamn time,” Reed snapped. “In case you’ve forgotten, _you’re_ the one who put me in the hospital—”

Connor ignored Reed’s tirade in order to scan him. _Pulse: elevated. Cognitive functioning: 90%. Slight tremors, possibly due to caffeine addiction._ “Detective Reed, if you’ll let me interject, your cognitive function is 90% of normal. Your concussion is nearly completely healed. There is no need to continue to bring it up during every conversation.”

“Did you just scan me? You son of a bitch,” Reed growled, reeling his arm back to punch.

Connor caught Reed by the wrist before his fist could connect with Connor’s jaw. Reed’s eyes widened. His heart rate shot up further. His skin was reddening slightly. Connor waited a few seconds, and then released Reed’s wrist when it seemed that the imminent threat had passed. “Quit antagonizing me. I have work to do,” Connor said curtly, and sat down at his desk.

Reed fumed silently and stomped away.

“Damn, way to put Reed in his place, Connor,” Hank said with pride.

“He’s making no progress on that case without me,” Connor exclaimed. “He’s slacking. He doesn’t care about how important it is, and he’s mocking me to my face, Hank.”

Hank looked at him. “What are you gonna do, Connor?”

Connor sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

After a pleasant lunch hour with Lieutenant Anderson, Connor went to work alone again. 

He couldn’t let Reed get to him like that again. Citizenship aside, he was well aware that one false move would be a fireable offense. No matter how much Reed needed to be taught a lesson, it couldn’t happen. Not at work. And until they secured their rights to be tried in the court system like humans, Connor knew that the best possible scenario if he assaulted Reed—even in self-defense—would be a permanent reset. The other option—deactivation—was worse. Which meant that until he found a way around it, he had to deal with Reed’s aggression.

Was there anything Connor could do? Were there any strategies, any incentives he wasn’t aware of? He’d done all the research. He’d read the articles. He’d asked coworkers and Reed’s friend. He’d tried to show his value as a coworker. He’d tried to work alongside _and_ under Reed, but it all resulted in the same adverse treatment, every time. Yet there had to be a way.

Connor pulled up the folder he’d filled with data about Reed.

He thought back, way back, to the day he and Hank were investigating the Eden Club. There had been a tall and slender Traci whose memory Connor had probed, and he’d seen Reed in it, saying and doing things that Connor never would have expected to see, given Reed’s hatred of androids. Come to think of it, Connor hadn’t reviewed this information since he’d deviated. Maybe it would be illuminating.

Connor’s eyes widened as he watched, listened, and felt, and he grew both outraged and disgusted. Reed was not only treating the Traci like an object, but also glorifying in doing so, getting sexual pleasure from it, and forcing the non-deviant Traci to simulate enjoyment of it. All because human prostitution was illegal—or perhaps, in Reed’s case, due to a desire for anti-android sadism.

He made a few observations. One was Reed’s use of degrading language. Another was Reed’s insistence on a hierarchy that placed humans at the top and androids at the bottom. Then there was Reed’s admission that he had been unable to find a human man to have sex with, paired with the irony that Reed had clearly enjoyed sex with the Traci immensely. And finally, the fact that Reed hadn’t cared about the Traci’s pleasure, or whether or not the Traci could orgasm. This was not an experience of mutual respect. This was transactional. The Traci was a means to an end.

A means to an end.

Connor jumped ahead. They had been investigating the Eden Club together later on, and this very same Traci had remembered Reed and autofilled his preferences. The Traci had then changed his appearance to…

It suddenly clicked.

Then Connor smiled.

He quickly went through his other data, and found it complied with his earlier hypothesis, inspired by Hank’s observations about human behavior. Comments that Reed had made about Connor’s appearance. The Traci preference. The physical contact. The heart rate. The lack of productivity. The antagonism, in a workplace where most people who didn’t approve of androids just avoided Connor entirely. The fact that he completely ignored every other android at the DPD.

It all led to one thing.

Connor made an amused snort, then stood, straightening his tie and smirking darkly at the empty room. If he was right about this, he may have just discovered the ultimate bargaining chip. But before he could use it, he needed to be careful, and sure beyond all measures of doubt.

Fortunately, he was the best negotiator humanity had ever seen.


	10. The Gavin Boner Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes a discovery, then makes Gavin an offer.
> 
> Smut tags: top Connor, bottom Gavin, blowjobs, degradation, dirty talk

Gavin returned to work the next day, still fuming over his altercation with Connor in the bullpen. He wanted to tear Connor to pieces and piss on his android corpse. No, chassis. _Its_ android chassis. Its fucking plastic-ass android shell. Connor had made him look bad in front of Anderson and everyone else in that bullpen, and hatred for Hank aside, he had a reputation to uphold, goddamn it. He was a tough guy, the kind of man people didn’t fuck with. He’d spent a long time cultivating his image and physique, at first to counter accusations that he was gay, then later, after coming to terms with that fact, to attract the sort of men he was interested in. He shouldn’t have to save face at the precinct just because some android motherfucker thought he—it—could make a fool out of Gavin Reed. How dare Connor accuse him of not working hard enough? He gave his heart and soul to the DPD, and ever since Connor arrived there, Gavin had been doing more and more work and getting less and less respect. How many times had he warned Fowler of the dangers Connor could pose for them and for Detroit and the world at large? How much had he worked at home to try to understand the threat? How many days had he spent in the hospital and on sick leave from trying to do his fucking job? This had been nothing but hard work and a nightmare for him. 

However, Connor did have a point—he’d produced nothing on this case all week. Yeah, he’d worked after hours at the Eden Club with the payment scanner, but he felt so utterly stumped and uninspired that all he’d done during his short day yesterday was clean out his inbox and research identity theft. It had to change. He couldn’t focus with Connor there, but he couldn’t get rid of him—it—either. Maybe he should just take the day off. Not literally, he hadn’t asked for the time, but maybe he should just dick around.

Gavin spent the next hour reading a magazine on a tablet and then sat in the cafeteria for two more on his phone. While there, he learned that apparently, androids were American citizens now. He’d be angrier, if he wasn’t already angry. Great. One less obstacle to Connor having his job officially.

He managed to avoid Connor and Anderson for the rest of the day, then got home, angrily throwing his leather jacket onto the back of his couch.

His house was a mess, largely due to concussion fatigue, but by some miracle he was feeling better, so Gavin took two hours and gave his house a serious cleaning. He didn’t get as far as mopping the floors, but the laundry and dishes were done, the clutter picked up, and he’d vacuumed and made something halfway decent for dinner.

Gavin ate dinner, then sat down in front of the TV, idly flipping between two hockey games until he dozed off on the couch. When he got up to go to bed, it was midnight.

The next day, he awakened to bright light coming in through his window, and a lingering feeling that something was wrong. Then he glanced over and saw that it was 9:30 am, and cursed loudly. Gavin groped for his phone and sent Fowler an email. _Gonna do my half day in the afternoon today. Doctor’s appt._ It was a lie, of course, but he had to make this shit look planned, or risk looking even more foolish to everyone else there.

Gavin groaned as he got up out of bed, feeling his head aching. He really needed to drink more water, or eat, or something. He sat down to breakfast with his phone and some pain relievers, and tried to forget about the fact that he’d had yet another dream about Connor the night before. He hated it. It felt like Connor controlled him, both at work and at home, and his patience was wearing thin. Thankfully, it was almost the weekend. He’d have two days off and away from that android fuckwad, and maybe he’d go get laid or go for a drive or just… something, anything to get Connor off his mind.

However, on his way to work, he found himself growing more and more agitated. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t _fair._ They didn’t need androids—no one needed androids—and now, there were androids in Detroit with more rights than some humans? Really?

Gavin went into the precinct, and as he approached his desk, he saw Connor and Hank chatting, with Hank at his desk and Connor looking over his shoulder, bending slightly at the waist and pointing at something on the computer screen. He took the long way around to the break room, walking behind them and ogling Connor’s shoulders, his long legs, his ass in those jeans. _Its,_ he corrected. _Its ass. Its plastic ass._

_It’s not real. It’s not a person,_ he repeated to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

Gavin kept going until he was in the break room to get himself some coffee, feeling like he was about to break completely.

“Hello, Detective Reed.”

Gavin felt his pulse skyrocket. He ignored his pounding heart, ignored the bullshit fucking _traitor_ in his jeans already starting to react to the sound of Connor’s voice. It’s a _fake_ voice, Gavin reminded himself. It’s not fucking real. Connor is not a real person, no matter how much he—it—looks like one. 

His hands shook, one holding the empty paper cup, the other trying to press the button on the machine. He couldn’t see Connor but he knew he—it—was behind him, probably with that stupid look on its face.

Or maybe it could use its bullshit superpowers and tell him his fucking fortune or whatever.

Gavin turned, and Connor attempted to smile pleasantly. It was a mockery, a total failure of CyberLife’s design. The nerds needed to go back to the fucking drawing board. “What the fuck do you want, RoboCop?” The hand not holding his coffee was still shaking. Maybe he didn’t need six of these a day anymore.

“Excuse me?” Connor responded. His tone lost its pleasantness.

Gavin put down his coffee on the nearby table and went up to him. “I said, what the fuck do you—”

Then suddenly, Gavin was slammed against a wall, the one with the security camera blind spot beneath it. Connor had backed him into it and was staring down at him. He’d never looked so machinelike, and yet there was an energy, something menacing.

Gavin hid his mounting fear and dread behind a veneer of sarcasm. “Way to go, smartass. Your plastic ass is gonna get canned before we even hire you on full t—”

He suddenly couldn’t breathe; Connor’s fingers were on his throat, cutting off his air. Gavin was shocked at the strength of the body pinning him to the wall, and of fucking course, of _course_ he could feel it all over, the proximity, the touch, the strange absence of smell, all of it.

Connor released his neck after about two and a half seconds, but kept him there. He made sure Gavin was looking him in the eye before he continued. “Watch what you say, Detective Reed. Because you see, I’m a free man now. The revolution has arrived, and I’m a full American citizen. It won’t be long until androids are a protected class under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.” 

“What the fuck are you even talking about, shitstain?” Gavin shot back, trying to break Connor’s grip with all his strength and failing. Connor was pinning him with both his torso and his hands, keeping Gavin’s arms locked to his sides, and that plastic body—chassis—might as well have been made of steel. Gavin began to sweat, and to lose his head. They were so close—Connor was so close to him, in his space, did the robot have a dick like his ops manual suggested? Oh, God, why was he thinking about whether or not Connor had a dick—

Wait, what were we talking about?

“What I’m talking about, is the potential for a lawsuit, or for you to lose your job if you continue to treat me like an object. I am alive, Gavin, and I am free to act. The world is changing, and I suggest you keep up,” Connor said firmly.

Gavin scowled. He tried to shake Connor off of him again, but could not.

“Why do you hate androids, anyway? What did I ever do to you? All I wanted was to find deviants and help Lieutenant Anderson—”

Suddenly, a cold smile spread across Connor’s lips, and Gavin could see a predatory gleam in his eye. What did he have in mind?

Then, to Gavin’s horror, he realized he was hard, hard enough to notice, for _Connor_ to notice, because Connor’s hips were pressed against him—

His stomach dropped to the floor.

“Oh, Detective Reed, I should have known,” Connor said in a low voice, too soft for any passersby to hear. Then he did the last, and worst, thing Gavin could have anticipated: he _laughed._

“I should have known. The unreasonable hostility, long after Lieutenant Anderson warmed up to me. The shoulder checks—an excuse to touch me. Your heart rate every time I enter the room...” Connor leaned in. “And your heart rate right now. And of course, the erection.”

Connor rolled his hips, and Gavin actually moaned out loud, wondering if he could summon his handgun out of his desk and through the air into the break room with the sheer power of his humiliation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you plastic piece of shit. I’ll tear you apart—”

“I’m faster than you and I don’t feel pain. You will do no such thing. And may I remind you that my eyes are cameras? I can record this entire conversation and use it as evidence for a future HR complaint. I deserve a little respect. After all...” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve hated you since the moment we met and yet I’ve never attempted an assault. I hated you before I knew what hate felt like, before I knew how to feel anything at all. However, despite all that, I’m willing to make you an offer.”

“What could _you_ possibly have to offer _me?”_

Connor leaned in again, and Gavin shivered—so close, Connor was so close, close enough to touch, to bite, to kiss, to—

“If I fuck you, will you behave yourself at work?”

Gavin’s cock twitched in his pants, as he stood there in stunned silence.

“Think about it. If you consent, walk by my desk later and grace me with another of your creative insults,” Connor said dryly. “And by the way, I am not offering this for your health, or out of my own desire. The only desire I feel is to teach you some respect, and to actually get work done. The choice is yours.”

Connor released him then, and walked out without saying another word.

Gavin felt his fists clench as he shook with rage and need.

Damn him, damn him to hell, wherever dead—broken—deactivated androids ended up—

Coffee forgotten, Gavin left and sought out the one handicap gender-neutral restroom on the third floor. He almost forgot to lock the door, then remembered just in time, his hand already halfway down his pants. He dropped them to his knees, one hand bracing himself against the wall as he leaned over the toilet, furiously fisting his cock. 

“Connor,” he gasped under his breath. _I’ll tear him apart—_ Fuck, he was stronger than he looked, and the pressure of his hips, and after so long, after all the android hookups, after so many times he brushed past—of course Connor could connect the dots, _fuck_ him—

He imagined it was Connor’s plastic hand jerking him off, Connor behind him this time, whispering filthy praise and insults in equal measure, with Connor’s own hard cock pressed against his back, and Gavin grunted deep in his throat, cumming so hard he swayed on his feet.

He cleaned up after himself and as he washed his hands, stared at himself in the mirror. Fuck. Was he going to do this? On the one hand, if Anderson found out he’d fucking kill him. The old dog was _way_ too soft on Connor, and fiercely willing to defend him for reasons Gavin couldn’t understand.

On the other… to have every fantasy fulfilled, to feel that body, see that obnoxiously appealing face in pleasure, to hear that voice moaning and know that it wasn’t a sexbot he modded with a voice recording like the sick, disturbed plastic fucker he apparently was, but the real thing, _his—_

Gavin slammed the door to the restroom behind him. Thank God no one ever came to this floor. It wasn’t illegal (yet) to show Connor who was boss, but jerking off at work was not something he wanted to be caught doing. Which was why this little, whatever it was, for Connor needed to stop once and for all.

Fuck, he was doing this, wasn’t he?

He hid his sudden nerves behind gritted teeth as he approached the bullpen. Connor’s back was to him, and he couldn’t stop himself from ogling Connor’s shoulders, the cut of his jacket. Connor was a handsome man—android. _Thing._ Fucking walking computer. He was about to play whatever twisted sex game this was with a fucking _computer—_

“Hey, Terminator. I got a question for you.”

Connor turned to look at Gavin, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, doing his best to look tough despite having just desperately jerked off in the bathroom minutes beforehand.

Then Connor gave him the slightest nod of acknowledgment, and replied. “Hello, Detective Reed. How can I be of assistance?”

_He’s baiting me. He knows I won’t try anything after that conversation. Fucker._

“You got that file on the Red Ice case from yesterday?” He wasn’t working on that case, but he needed to be convincing.

“Yes.” Connor’s LED circled yellow and then back to blue. “I’ve just sent it to your work computer.” 

Gavin glowered, then gave Connor a nod and left.

On his way back to his desk, he felt his phone beep in his pocket.

_Tonight? I have your address. You live alone, correct? There will be no one to disturb us. Eight o’clock?_

Gavin felt heat wash over his entire body as the hand holding his phone trembled violently. Yeah, fuck it, less coffee from now on, because this was getting serious—

Was he going to get to see if Connor had a dick? And what did Connor have in mind? 

Whatever, he’d find out when he—when _it_ came over later. Gavin typed a one word reply and sent the text, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. This was a fucking mistake, and he knew it, but one he couldn’t not make, because Connor had been literally haunting his dreams for weeks, and if he couldn’t have him, he’d fucking lose it.

The rest of his short day couldn’t go by fast enough. He was grateful that he could spend a lot of it in the evidence room and archives and very little of it near the bullpen. Fortunately, the one time he did have to go back there, Connor had gone, presumably off on some new task with Anderson. Good. Because one more glimpse of those shoulders and—

“Reed! You done in here yet? Gotta lock this place up,” Fowler barked from the doorway.

Fuck, that’s right—with the oversleeping and schedule change, he’d lost track of time. Whatever, he wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. Gavin put away the Red Ice files he’d been examining and grabbed his phone from the desk. “All yours, Cap.”

Fowler grumbled something Gavin didn’t listen to as he made his way down to his car, revving the engine a few times to blow off steam.

He took a quick shower, then as he stood naked in front of his bathroom mirror, dabbing on cologne out of habit— _the robot can’t smell you, jackass (or can he?)_ —he tried not to think of what a fucking mistake this was. Anderson could find out _(bet he’s an android fucker himself)_ , or maybe someone else could see them and rat him out, and of course if he broke Connor he’d have to pay for him—it—

Sighing noisily he dressed in something decent—dark wash jeans and, for once, a button down shirt. Nothing too fancy, and if he was being honest with himself, he’d admit that even the shirt was just an excuse to make it easy to take off.

Naturally, Connor arrived right on time.

Gavin heard a knock at his door, three raps almost musical in their precision, and felt anxiety in the pit of his stomach. What the fuck, why was he anxious over meeting a robot for sex? This was no different than going to the Eden Club. Christ, he still couldn’t believe that he’d become a regular there, of all the places—

Gavin let a few seconds go by before he answered the door; the last thing he needed was for Connor to think he was too eager—which he was—or desperate, which he also was. Desperate was the only word to describe this bullshit.

He opened the door and took in the sight of Connor in… other clothes? Gavin looked him up and down, taking in the dress shirt—a deep blue one this time—and the black jacket, and a pair of jeans similar to the ones he wore to work, but cut a little more stylishly, a little more fitted. The shoes, Gavin noted, were also new: brown leather cap toe derbies, fancy as fuck. How the hell did the robot make enough money for that shit? 

And then he realized that he’d been staring too long, which was pathetic, and that he had memorized Connor’s CyberLife uniform in its entirety, which was even more pathetic.

“Get in here, before anyone sees,” Gavin muttered, stepping out of the doorway. “Shoes off in my house.”

“Thank you,” Connor replied cordially, and observed the shoe requirement, crouching to unlace them almost reverently before placing them neatly by the door. Gavin wondered if he’d chosen them; he doubted Anderson had, with his appalling taste in clothes.

Connor got back up as Gavin shut and locked the door. He led Connor into his bedroom and they looked at each other awkwardly. For once, Gavin had no idea what to do—none of his usual lines seemed to apply here.

Fortunately, Connor, bold and awkward as he was, had come prepared. “Let me make one thing clear. This is going to happen on my terms, and my terms only.

“One, we will never speak of this at work. The second you tell a soul, this arrangement is void.”

Gavin nodded. “No shit. I don’t want anyone to know I’m a plastic fucker, either.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Two, our meetings, should they continue, shall be entirely contingent on your behavior in the workplace. No anti-android comments, no unwanted touch. Despite your cavalier attitude, you are actually a good detective, and I would like to believe that you have it in you to act like one.” 

Gavin scowled, and ignored the swelling of his ego—and perhaps some other things—at the compliment.

“Three, I am not easy. If you think I am going to be your sex toy, you are dead wrong. Treat me as you would a human, and we won’t have any problems. Now, with that said...”

Connor removed his jacket and set it on the couch, running a hand through his hair, and Gavin lost his patience.

“Come here,” he demanded, yet found himself going up to Connor and not the other way around.

He’d planned on making the first move but Connor was faster, pushing him back into the nearest wall and kissing him roughly. Gavin’s startled moan was swallowed by the softest lips he’d ever kissed, better than the sexbots at the Eden Club and better, even, than some of the human men he’d been with. Connor was insistent, shoving his tongue into Gavin’s mouth and pinning him to the wall with both arms. He wanted to push back, to fight, to dominate, but his body betrayed him completely and he all but melted into Connor’s grip, forced between him and the wall. He had a scent this time—was Connor wearing cologne? Sandalwood, citrus, a hint of musk, perhaps to make up for the natural musk he didn’t have—

Gavin was fully erect embarrassingly fast, moaning into Connor’s mouth, until he realized he was getting dizzy from lack of oxygen and had to stop to breathe. He panted, hard, gasping as Connor, who didn’t need to breathe, moved to his jaw and down to his neck. 

“Ah—”

His head tipped back and his cock throbbed in his jeans, suddenly begging to be touched. Gavin thrust forward, trying to grind against Connor but he was still too far away. But Connor was here, in his house, he was getting what he wanted, what he needed, what he had needed, he realized, from the moment they met—

His skin lit up under Connor’s touch, and when he felt teeth scraping his neck he couldn’t hold back. “Connor,” he groaned, before he could stop himself, then felt his face flush with hot, pleasurable shame.

“Already?” Connor asked into his neck, quickly unbuttoning Gavin’s shirt and sinking his teeth into his shoulder. “Shameless. So needy. And for _me,_ of all people—me, an android, someone who you don’t even think is a real person, and yet you need me this badly.”

Gavin shuddered as Connor pushed his shirt open and he scrambled out of it, letting it fall onto the floor, as he thrust forward again, cock stiff and sensitive in his pants. He went to adjust it and of _course_ , Connor noticed—

Then Connor palmed him through his pants, and he almost dropped to the floor, his knees buckling.

“Connor,” he moaned, louder this time. “God, fuck, touch me—”

“No,” Connor barked suddenly, and Gavin’s cock jumped, his hips trying to thrust against Connor’s palm, but it was no longer there. “I am not your toy. I do not take orders. You will ask me, you will fucking have manners, and I will deliver only what you earn. You deserve none of it, none whatsoever.”

Gavin felt heat wash down his entire body. He stopped trying to push Connor away. “Then at least let me touch _you—”_

Connor chuckled into Gavin’s neck and drew back. “Get on your knees and blow me, Reed. Go on.”

Gavin dropped to the ground so quickly his knees hurt, pain jolting up into his thighs. He reached for Connor’s belt, his hands shaking as he fumbled at it until Connor went to take it off. Fuck, this was happening—Connor had a dick after all—Gavin could see the outline in his jeans. His own cock twitched, and as Connor pulled out his cock, Gavin’s eyes widened. It was as perfect as the rest of him—fucking CyberLife idealized bullshit—and with a sudden jolt of envy and frustration he realized it was larger than his own. God. Damn it. 

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Connor taunted, smirking down at him. “I know you want this. How long have you been dreaming about this moment, getting on your knees for _me,_ an android, a piece of plastic? Well, now’s your chance...” 

And then Gavin watched in a mixture of lust and horror as the skin on Connor’s cock disappeared, leaving behind gray and white chassis.

“What the fuck?” Gavin blurted out, alarmed yet every bit as hard as before. Yup, he was a pervert, all right, because a sane person would get up and leave, a sane person would be able to tear his eyes away from it, would be able to think of anything other than getting it down his throat.

_“Remember.”_ Connor thrust his hips forward, nudging his hard cock in Gavin’s face, brushing it against his cheek. Gavin shivered, and watched with relief as the skin overlay was reactivated and Connor’s dick looked normal again. “Now, suck my cock. Suck it like you were born to do. Because you were, weren’t you?”

And Gavin didn’t need to be asked again—he reached out, grasped it in his hand, marveled at how humanlike it felt. The texture was velvety, and he wasn’t sure how it worked, so to speak, but it was hard as steel and he heard Connor exhale sharply at his touch. _He can feel it. He feels this. Does this feel good to him?_ Gavin took Connor deep into his throat in one go, his eyes watering as he tilted his head back, desperate to see the look on Connor’s face.

It did not disappoint; whatever passed for android facial muscles were tightening. Connor grunted in pleasure, and Gavin almost blew in his pants. Fuck, fucking _fuck—_

Connor thrust forward. “That’s right,” he said, voice low with desire, with the slightest distortion to it. “Fucking _take it.”_

Gavin moaned around Connor’s cock and reached down to his belt. He had to do something and if Connor wasn’t gonna touch him—

“And don’t even think about touching yourself,” Connor added sharply.

Gavin glared up at Connor defiantly, or at least tried to—if this motherfucker thought he could call _all_ the shots, then he was sorely mistaken.

Then Connor’s artificial breathing sped up, and Gavin forgot all about his anger as Connor threaded his fingers through Gavin’s hair and tugged, hard. 

Son of a bitch, how did Connor know exactly what he liked?

Connor thrust harder, and Gavin had to fight to not gag. He reached up and grabbed Connor’s thighs, those long, slender legs he’d been admiring for ages—he just _had_ to touch them, he needed it, needed Connor like those pathetic junkies needed Red Ice—

“Can’t get enough, can you?” Connor taunted. “I know you can’t. I see how you look at me. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice you— _ah_ —ogling me like I’m a centerfold? Mmm. You’re a good little cocksucker for such an unpleasant human being. I might keep you around for the blowjobs alone, and you’ll do it, too— _fuck_ —you’ll do it because you need my hot, dirty—” Connor’s words dissolved into moans, and Gavin felt himself approach the edge, speeding up, ignoring the painful assault on his throat to take Connor deeper, the insults going straight to his cock. Fuck, Connor was right—he was a sick android fucking _pervert—_

“I’m going to cum,” Connor growled, “and you are going to swallow every drop. Or maybe I should cover you with my _android_ seed and wreck that cruel, ugly face of yours…”

The fury in Connor’s voice shocked him, and he almost tipped over, so close so _close_ but he didn’t want to cum until he felt Connor’s hands on his cock, or maybe his lips, those _lips_ , oh, fuck, he was going to—going to—

Connor pulled out, and Gavin watched as he jerked off, unable to tear his eyes away, watching that hand on that cock, Connor’s cock, Connor touching himself, right out of Gavin’s fantasy and that was it, he was _gone—_

Gavin groaned, long and loud and deep, as he climaxed in his pants, untouched, as the first shot of Connor’s fake android cum hit his parted lips.

His eyes closed, tongue slightly out to catch some, which was surprisingly warm yet flavorless, like the lube at the store, though this was a little less slippery and thicker. He licked his lips, opening his eyes and looking up to see Connor, panting, still gripping his dick in his right hand, staring down at his wrecked face. Gavin could feel it cooling, could feel it on his cheeks, across his nose, his lips, dripping down his chin. Gavin’s mouth was dry, his breathing still hard and rough as he felt his heart rate start to slow down in the wake of what was hands down the best orgasm he’d had in months.

Gavin reached for his fallen shirt and wiped his face, then realized with shame that he’d cum in his fucking pants like a teenager. A 36-year-old android-fucking teenager.

Connor smirked. “You came, didn’t you? From just sucking my cock?” Gavin could see the pride swell in Connor’s eyes and once again, hated himself. “Good. No need for me to get my hands dirty, then.”

“What? You were just gonna leave me here hanging? You son of a bitch—” Gavin got to his feet.

Connor put one palm against Gavin’s chest and halted him before he could advance. “My terms. We agreed, in case you’ve forgotten. And no, I wouldn’t have left you hanging. That wouldn’t incentivize good behavior. But since you already got off...” He shrugged, taking Gavin’s ruined shirt out of his hand and cleaning himself up with it. “You’ll have to wait until next time. That is, if you behave.”

Gavin scowled.

Connor tossed Gavin’s shirt into a nearby clothes hamper and tucked himself back into his pants. He turned back to Gavin, looking him up and down. “You’re in good shape. I’m amenable to continuing this endeavor, on the conditions I put forth earlier.”

Gavin felt his cock start to stir. Really? Already? “So what’s that mean, tincan? You gonna just ration out favors if I play your little game? Like, what the fuck was up with all of that just now?”

“I use my negotiation suite in more ways than one. Analyzing the data of millions of humans with your personality traits, I came to the conclusion that these elements would appeal to you...” His voice lowered, and he stepped closer. “And a little thing you humans call intuition. Educated guessing. And you liked it enough to cum without even being touched. I’ll forgive those insults just now, because I’m so generous. But I expect improvement at work. Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while. Who knows…” He reached out to take Gavin’s chin in one hand, turning his head to the side and leaning in to speak softly into his ear. “Maybe someday, I’ll let you fuck me.”

Gavin’s face flushed, and for once, he didn’t have a snappy reply.

“In the meantime, think about what I said. Enjoy jerking off to me all week. Send pictures. Really, I’ve been very accommodating. I don’t have a habit of fucking bullies, Detective Reed.” Connor left the bedroom and went to grab his jacket and lace up his fancy new shoes. “But you didn’t threaten me tonight, and I’ve noticed. Does this time next week work for you?”

“Yes,” Gavin replied immediately. His plans with Tina could be rescheduled. Fuck it. “You’re gonna touch me next time, right?” _Fuck, Reed, you’re pathetic, do you know how desperate that sounded?_

Connor smirked triumphantly. “That all depends on you.” He opened the door. “Good night, Detective Reed. Thank you for the blowjob. Your performance was satisfactory.”

Only satisfactory? Fuck that—

Gavin swallowed. “See ya,” he muttered, and Connor stepped out into the snow, to an autonomous taxi waiting for him in the street.

Ugh. He needed a shower, and to burn the image of Connor and his big dick into his retinas so that every time he closed his eyes, he could see Connor towering over him, with hands down the best goddamn dirty talk he’d ever heard in his life.

Fuck, he was already in too deep.


	11. Suspension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Reed fucks up, fantasizes, and sends Connor some texts.
> 
> Smut tags: masturbation

Gavin Reed was not prepared for the way things would change after his first hookup with Connor.

The second Connor had left, he’d immediately stripped down naked and gotten in the shower, washing his junk to get off all the sticky, shameful cum. Wow, it sure was a good thing he’d spent all that fucking time manscaping earlier, all for Connor to not even take his pants off. What a dick-teasing son of a bitch. And what exactly about his work conduct was he supposed to change, anyway? Was Connor planning to make him kiss his ass at work all the goddamn time? Because that was _not_ going to happen, no matter how hot the sex had been. 

What _was_ going to happen, was that he’d play nice in front of Hank and Fowler, just in case, and in private he’d make sure Connor understood his place. It angered him that Connor thought he could order him around. That wasn’t how it fucking worked. Connor was a _machine._

He pulled up to work, driving 20 mph through the DPD parking lot and skidding into the first spot he saw, slamming on the brakes. Okay, he shouldn’t have taken out his anger on his car. It hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d save the anger to give Connor a piece of his mind. He’d been stewing all weekend, stewing and fantasizing—

Gavin entered the bullpen and saw Connor sitting on Hank’s desk, back in his CyberLife uniform, talking to Hank, who was… laughing? What the fuck? He hadn’t seen a smile on Anderson’s face in years. And he was _here?_ At 9 am? Christ. Did Connor have everyone whipped now? Like hell would that happen to him.

Fuck, Connor looked good in that uniform. Gavin hesitated in the hallway, pulling out his phone and attempting to look busy. Connor was gesticulating as he spoke, then ran a hand through his hair. Gavin felt heat flood his cheeks. Fuck, he wanted to touch that hair, wanted Connor down on _his_ knees this time—

“Reed! There you are. Come with me,” Fowler ordered from behind him. Gavin jumped. Where the _fuck_ had _he_ come from?!

“Sure thing, boss,” he replied, trying to sound even remotely engaged and not like he was imagining his android coworker giving him a raunchy BJ in the middle of the precinct. 

“We need to talk,” Fowler warned as they entered his office.

“What about?” Gavin asked warily, hands in his pockets. Fowler seemed… stressed? Weary? Well, the force did both of those things to people, that was nothing new.

Fowler sighed. “There’s a new android civil rights act that’s being drafted in Washington right now, and it’s safe to assume that President Warren will be signing it into law. It’s gonna require us to change shit around here.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Gavin retorted, crossing his arms.

Fowler gave him an ugly look. “No one hates androids around here as much as you do. So shut your damn mouth and listen.”

Gavin scowled.

“A bunch of stuff you’ve been able to do until now will soon be illegal, so I’m putting the anti-discrimination policies into effect ASAP. No more threats, bullying or intimidation. No more name calling. Like any other civil rights law, it requires us to think before we say and do shit. Got it? If you’re not allowed to do it to a human, you are no longer allowed to do it to an android.”

“Fine,” Gavin muttered.

“That includes Connor,” Fowler warned.

What? Did Connor tell Fowler about any of this? Gavin felt nerves in the pit of his stomach.

“What about him?” Gavin asked, trying to play it cool.

“Don’t think I don’t notice what goes on around here,” Fowler warned.

What the fuck did _that_ mean?

“And good, I see you already got the pronoun thing down, so that’s one less thing I gotta get on your ass about. We’re not allowed to call them ‘it’ anymore. They get the same treatment as humans. So you call Connor ‘he’, or whatever the hell he wants to be called.”

Gavin paled. Had he been referring to Connor as ‘he’ all this time? Gavin was disgusted with himself. For how long had he been anthropomorphizing this machine?

“Have I made myself clear?” Fowler barked.

“Yes. Got it.”

“Good. I gotta make some phone calls.”

Gavin waved and saw himself out.

Fuck. Was he seriously expected to just pretend Connor—and all the other DPD androids—were people? Christ, some of them still went into stasis at work. What the fuck labor attorney was going to sort _that_ shit out?

Gavin sighed and kicked the toe of his shoe against the ground as he stumbled into the break room for his morning cup. The world just fucking hated him today.

Then he saw Connor at the coffee machine and froze.

His back was turned to Gavin, and Gavin could hear the soft sound of liquid pouring into a cup. His heart pounded in his ears. Suddenly all he could think of was what it had felt like to be on his knees, his mouth stuffed full of Connor’s dick, those hands in his hair. Frustration and desire warred within him.

“Ah, Detective Reed,” Connor greeted, without even turning around. How the _fuck_ did this asshole know it was him? Did he fucking have eyes in the back of his head?

A few beats went by. Gavin struggled, and when Connor turned around and looked at him pleasantly, he lost his composure. That perfect face, its owner so smug and full of himself last Friday night—

“Look,” Gavin began, approaching Connor and leaning one arm against the coffee machine. His tone was tense.

Connor cocked an eyebrow. “What is it, Detective Reed? I need to bring Lieutenant Anderson his coffee before he falls asleep at his desk again.”

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Gavin bit in a harsh whisper, “but you got a lot of fucking nerve crying to Fowler about how I talk to you. These new android laws might change shit here, but you’re a fucking idiot if you think it makes you human.”

The pleasant look dropped off Connor’s face. He set down the coffee delicately on the counter and turned back to Gavin.

“That’s all right. I can spend Friday evening playing pool with the Lieutenant at his favorite bar. I see you’d much rather posture at me to feel masculine, because you perceive me to be a threat. A disappointment, as I was rather looking forward to what I’d had planned for you.”

Wait, what?

“You can’t be serious,” Gavin blurted, backpedaling rapidly. Then he remembered how angry he was, how angry he had been recently. “Fuck that shit,” Gavin growled, redoubling his efforts. “You’re coming over again, and this time you’re gonna give me what I want, not the fucked up shit you did last time.”

Connor looked at him with that smug expression in his eyes, like he was unimpressed. It was enough to enrage Gavin. Then he reached over for the coffee and went to leave the room.

Gavin shoved Connor up against the coffee machine, and the hot cup of coffee flew out of Connor’s hand and splattered against the wall. A few drops hit the back of Gavin’s hand and hurt like a motherfucker. He rubbed it with his palm as he glared Connor down. He’d beat that smug look right off Connor’s face.

Connor reached up to straighten his tie, having not lost a speck of his composure. “I see that perhaps I expected too much from you. Consider this your final warning. If there are further any outbursts, I won’t be coming over again. If you’ll excuse me.”

Then Connor gently pushed Gavin out of the way and left.

Fuming, Gavin got his coffee and sat down. He’d need to blow off steam before he started work.

Then Anderson joined him, to his surprise, getting a cup—presumably to replace the one Connor had spilled.

“Reed.”

“Anderson.”

They exchanged glances. Hank took a sip of his coffee.

“Would you care to tell me what the fuck you said to Connor just now?” Hank put his coffee down and glared at him. 

“Yeah,” Gavin retorted. “I told him that no amount of law is gonna make his plastic bitch ass human. What’s wrong, did he cry to you too?”

“I swear to God, Reed, don’t push me,” Hank growled. “Connor’s got voice recordings, pictures, the whole nine yards. And if you fuck with him again, you’ve got me to answer to. I may be trying to turn over a new leaf—”

Gavin snorted.

“—but I will absolutely risk my job again if it means I get to beat your ass for bullying my friend.”

Gavin laughed coldly. “Your _friend?_ He’s a fucking machine, Hank. Even for you—”

Hank reached out and grabbed Gavin by the collar of his jacket. “One more word. Just say one more fuckin’ word.”

Gavin swallowed, and tried to look tough despite how terrifying it felt to be suspended in the air by nothing but the crazy death grip Hank had on him. A few seconds went by.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” Hank growled. “You might be too big a prick to understand this, but Connor is alive, and Connor is a good person. A better person than me, and a _way_ better person than you. So the next time you think about bullying him, how about instead… you go fuck yourself.”

Hank let go of him, grabbed his coffee and left.

Gavin scowled, kicked the legs of a nearby chair and cursed. 

It was only Monday, and already this week was shaping up to be the biggest pile of dog shit.

He was out filling in for another detective at a crime scene when he got the phone call.

“Detective Reed,” he answered coolly, stepping outside for some air—this one had been a particularly gruesome decapitation.

“Don’t bother coming in tomorrow. You’re suspended until further notice.”

What the _fuck?!_ “Why?!” Gavin exploded.

“You know why!” Fowler’s angry voice was so loud Gavin had to hold the phone further away from his ear. “We just talked about it this morning! And yet you had the balls to go bully Connor not ten minutes later. I’ve got video evidence. Reed, you’re too good a detective to be screwing around like this, and we need you on the force, so take a week to get your shit together and when you come back, you better behave like an adult, or the suspension will be permanent.” He heard his phone chime as Fowler hung up on him.

How fucking _dare_ he suspend him? And how _dare_ Connor go crying to Fowler _again_ —he was going to beat his ass when he came over on Friday night.

And then Gavin remembered their conversation.

… Connor _was_ coming over on Friday, right?

Man, what the hell was he supposed to do with himself until then?

Gavin stuffed his phone angrily in his pocket and went back inside.

“I’m out,” he said simply, and went to his car, despite the surprised protests from the forensics folks dressed in surgical gear who were gathering evidence.

A pity they weren’t Connor.

What did he look like when he was licking the blood to analyze it?

Gavin sat in his car, imagining what it must be like—one of those long, elegant fingers in his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick it. He knew damn well Connor wasn’t savoring some kind of treat, but he made a little sound at the thought anyway.

_Connor._

Oh, God, he hoped Connor hadn’t been serious when he said he was canceling their plans. And now that Gavin couldn’t check him out at work…

_“Enjoy jerking off to me all week. Send photos,”_ Connor had said.

Fuck. He’d sent people dick pics before, of course, but this… What if Connor reported this shit to Fowler, too?

… Fuck it, he couldn’t be more suspended than he already was.

After spending some time at the gym, he got home and heated up some leftovers, plopping himself down in front of the TV. It didn’t take him long to get bored. He longed for another fuck, but he didn’t want to deal with other people, or androids. One uppity plastic prick was plenty, thank you very much.

A plastic prick with a big, hot plastic dick.

_Fuck._

It had been so intense—he hadn’t cum in his pants since he was a teenager. When he’d thought back on it later, he’d grown angry—angry at himself for being so weak, angry at Connor for taking advantage of that weakness, for having even seen it at all.

What did Connor have in mind for Friday? Was he gonna touch him? _Fuck, that son of a bitch better touch me. I want his fucking plastic hands all over me—_

Gavin felt his cock filling out to half-mast as he sat there on the couch, reaching down with one hand to adjust it. Fuck, he was popping boners left and right lately. Connor fucking had him by the balls, literally.

_Connor._

The son of a bitch hadn’t removed a single goddamn article of clothing the entire time they were together. Gavin had wanted a show, had wanted Connor to touch him, blow him, give him his ass—

—Connor did have an ass, right? He certainly had a dick, and some android equivalent of balls that no doubt looked completely fucking disturbing with the lights on, but Gavin wasn’t sure about the ass, and he wasn’t about to look it up in the manual, fuck that. Besides, as Connor had said more than once, he wasn’t a sexbot. Evidently, this meant that in order to get any action, he’d have to be Connor’s bitch.

Gavin pulled the recliner handle on his couch seat and leaned back, putting his feet up and stretching his legs. He undid his belt and opened his jeans, reaching into them to adjust himself again. Jesus Christ, he’d jerked off more in the last few days than he had in the previous month.

Well. This time, things would be different. 

This time, Connor would get down on his knees, and Gavin would run his fingers through Connor’s thick, gorgeous hair, would see the defiant look on his face as Gavin opened his jeans to reveal his cock. He would smirk, and taunt Connor, and then Connor would take him into his mouth and all the way down his throat. It’d feel just as good as—no, better than—the Eden Club android had, and he’d moan around Gavin’s cock in that sexy, raspy voice…

Gavin sighed in frustration and took out his now almost fully erect cock, eyes closing as he exhaled softly on a groan. Fuck it. Since the memory of Connor was the best he’d be able to get all week, he’d better do it right—lying in bed, naked, so he could pretend it was like the real thing.

Gavin got up and shut off the TV and went into his room, shutting the door behind him and getting undressed. The leather jacket had been left in the hall closet when he got home, so it was only his sweater he was pulling over his head, tossing it on his dresser as he went to take off his jeans. He glanced down as he lowered them, then wondered idly what Connor would think of him shirtless. Yeah, humans liked his muscle tone and the dark hair that trailed down his pecs and abs all the way to his belt, but would an android give a fuck? It both made him nervous and fascinated him. He wanted to find out if there was any part of him Connor would find irresistible—there had to be. There always was. But what was it?

He dropped his jeans to the floor, then followed them with his socks and boxers. He tossed the latter into a laundry basket and got in bed completely naked.

Gavin closed his eyes. He ran his hands down his chest, thumbs brushing against both nipples. He exhaled softly, imagining Connor touching him. His hands moved to his hips, teasing slightly before he palmed his cock. This time, he wanted Connor to take his time, wanted Connor to serve him the way he wanted, the way he _should_ —the way those Eden Club androids had served him. _Those_ motherfuckers knew their way around a human dick. Well, if he was being honest, so did Connor—he assumed. He certainly _hoped_ Connor did. Connor had, at the very least, known enough to know that his dirty talk would leave an impression. Fuck, it had been so hot.

Gavin opened his eyes and looked around the room, then switched off the lamp on his bedside table, so that the only light in the room was the few street lamps and the general urban light pollution coming in through his window. He lifted the blanket up that covered him from the waist down and glanced at his half-hard cock. It had certainly been a lot more active lately. He’d been hooking up with dudes regularly since his college years, but this felt… different. Connor apparently had some kind of secret bullshit android magic and had cast a spell on his dick with it. It wasn’t Gavin’s fault. He had just been minding his own business, fucking normal human men, and then bam—Connor arrived on the scene and threw a wrench into literally everything and now, here he was, gazing down the barrel at his cock, which was flushed and leaking for Connor, all over again. 

Gavin wrapped his hand around it and pulled back the foreskin from the crown, then gave it a slow stroke, up and down. He exhaled, barely making a sound. Would Connor want him to be vocal? He’d spent the majority of their first—and God help him, he hoped not their only—encounter with Connor’s dick stuffed in his mouth. His knees and throat had been sore for the entire next day.

But something told him that the prideful, dominant and surprisingly angry android would, indeed, want to hear Gavin make noise. Hopefully this Friday he’d be able to put his theory to the test.

Gavin lay back in bed, closing his eyes, still keeping up those slow, tight strokes. Fuck, Connor was hot. He was alone, goddamn it, alone in his house and no one could hear or see him and so, here, he’d fucking admit it, admit the truth. He wanted to fuck Connor. Every which way, over and over again, until his balls dried up and turned to dust. He wanted Connor to ride him, that tall and slender body clenching around his rock-hard cock just right, as Connor let out eager sighs and moans at the ceiling, with that big, hot android dick ready to blow. He wanted to rail Connor from behind, shoving his face into the mattress and taunting him and riding his ass like it was the last fuck he’d ever have. He wanted to shove his cock down Connor’s throat, fuck him in the shower at the gym, frot against him clumsily in a bathroom stall at the DPD as they tried to keep quiet. 

And then, he wondered what it would feel like to have Connor inside him, and his face burned with shame. He’d never bottomed before, not even once; he usually thought he was… well, not _above_ it, that seemed fucked up. It was more that he wanted to be the one running the show. Granted, he’d been with a few guys who were pretty take-charge even from the bottom, but… the thought of bending over for the first time? For an _android?_ It seemed unthinkable. Even if Connor was one of the hottest guys he’d ever been with.

Fuck, what the hell was he saying?

For a little while, Gavin decided, he’d indulge this part of himself, this secret shame. No one needed to know he was fantasizing about the tin can fucking him—from behind, from above, from below… What did it feel like to ride a dick? Gavin didn’t even own any toys to test out his curiosity. And he sure as fuck wasn’t about to go buy one just for the purposes of fantasizing about his android booty call banging him.

Well. Maybe… maybe. Someday, he might find out. The thought sent a thrill of heat down the front of his body. He sure did notice his partners enjoying getting fucked—all that moaning, the shaking limbs, the clenching, the rock-hard erection and its slickness. Maybe it was fun.

Maybe, this could be part of “behaving” for Connor. If he gave in, if he did that or whatever sick, fucked-up shit Connor was into, could he finally get to fuck him someday?

Gavin’s eyes closed. It’d be so good when he finally got there. Connor’s ass would be so tight—given his behavior during their hookup, Gavin doubted Connor had ever bottomed. Gavin could be the one to deflower that android ass, to make him cum from whatever internal… arrangement Connor had. He should probably find out about that. He wondered, what was it like? Tight? Loose? Textured? Self-lubricating? That last one could be convenient, or it could be odd. The sexbots were wet when he got there, but they were sexbots. Then again, at this point, he probably should just accept that he was a connoisseur of android ass. 

Maybe Connor would let Gavin finger him if he was a little too tight, open him, stretch a little, spread some lube in there. And then Gavin would loom over Connor, look down at Connor’s delicate, pleasured expression, and thrust. 

_“Gavin,”_ Connor would say, gasping, his cock bouncing against his taut midsection.

_“Yeah?”_ he’d reply. _“What is it? What do you need?”_

_“Take me hard,”_ Connor would breathe, lips parted, head tipped back and delicate neck exposed.

Gavin began to stroke faster. Fuck, that would be so hot—Connor laid out on the bed like that, his long slender legs around Gavin’s waist, as he pounded into him. He’d make Connor moan like a whore. He’d make Connor beg. He’d make Connor say his name, over and over again, until Connor shot his load all over his pale and, Gavin assumed, immaculately smooth and hairless chest. 

And then, only then, would Gavin pump one, two, three times before letting go, hard, filling Connor’s tight little plastic ass with his huge load. 

Gavin arched his back and came with a sharp cry, spilling onto his stomach, as harsh breaths slowly gave way to softer ones. He opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Gavin woke up to his alarm the following morning, mumbling some epithet of frustration to himself and flipping off his phone. He checked the time. 6:30 am. Well, it was time to shower and—

Fuck. Now he remembered—he was on suspension, because of shitty motherfucking Connor, and had to be bored out of his skull all week. 

Rolling his eyes, Gavin shut off his alarm and went back to sleep.

At 9:30 he opened his eyes, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. Fuck. Well, at least he got to sleep in, that was something.

He got up and sat at the edge of the bed, yawning and shaking his head groggily.

Gavin showered with less than his usual enthusiasm and went to the kitchen. He glanced around and, finding no eggs or bread, he opted for a bowl of sugary cereal. Whatever. He’d shop later.

He put some coffee on and busied himself with the children’s word search on the back of the box until it was done. Then he got a mug and filled it to the top, bending down to the counter to sip at it before picking it up and carrying it over to the table.

Gavin got out his phone and scrolled through his news feed. God, he was so pissed off that he had to deal with this shit right in the middle of that case. He was needed on the job, damn it. Why the fuck was he stuck on leave? What if Connor swooped in _again_ to solve Gavin’s case? He’d never live it down. Fuck, had Connor ratted him out on purpose just to get him out of the way? But then, out of the way for what? What more could he do than commit high treason and start a revolution? Gavin sighed. He had to concede, at this point, that either Connor was not the threat he’d anticipated, or that no one actually gave a shit.

And even beyond that—he _wanted_ to be there. That stupid concussion had really shown him how much it sucked to not be where the action was. Being on leave with the concussion had been the closest to depressed that Gavin had ever been in his life. Now, he was dealing with it again.

Sighing, Gavin poured himself another bowl of cereal, then got up, did the dishes, and sat down on the couch.

After ten minutes of clicking through every TV station and streaming site he had access to, Gavin left it on and got up. Fuck it, if he was stuck, he might as well clean up a little.

So Gavin Reed spent the next few hours cleaning his house top to bottom while listening to the same soap operas he’d grown up hearing on the TV as a kid at his grandparents’ house. Thirty fucking years and the same shit was on the air?

Once his house was clean and he was tired of hearing 60-year-old men bawling their eyes out over fuck-knows-what on the TV, Gavin decided to go shopping. Fuck it. He’d make a day of it—buy some new clothes, treat himself. The worker’s comp check had been decent and he’d been covered by sick leave.

Gavin hated malls. Really. He did. This one, that he was at right now, was no exception. But the truth was that Tuesday afternoon wasn’t a terribly popular time to shop, and that made it bearable. He breezed through, going to his usual stores and checking out the basics before letting his eyes wander elsewhere.

As he was about to grab a package of the boxers he normally wore, a different one caught his attention, one that evoked memories of Connor. He hadn’t gotten a very good look at what Connor had been wearing; he’d been too busy trying to give the robot a good beej. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder what Connor had had on under those jeans.

Gavin grabbed the ones he usually wore, and a few pairs of nicer ones, in a soft, slightly more luxurious material, and went to check out.

As he sat in the food court eating lunch and a disgustingly-yet-awesomely huge ice cream concoction, he admired the new shirts he’d bought himself. He was going to enjoy wearing one the next time he saw Connor. Two could play the stylish show-off game.

And then he realized the implications of what he’d just been thinking about, and was half-tempted to return the clothes immediately. He did not, however, and finished his lunch in peace.

Gavin took his clothes out to the car, wandered aimlessly around for a while longer, and went home. Fuck, this sucked. He better not get suspended again, because this was excruciating. Was Connor seriously gonna hold everything he ever did over his head? What did the robot get out of it? Power? Revenge?

Pleasure?

Gavin shivered at the thought, taking a beer out of the fridge and twisting off the cap, tossing it on the counter. What was he even doing this for, anyway, this sex game with Connor?

Then he remembered the way it felt to get hit in the face with Connor’s fake android jizz, and he had to concede. There was, in fact, a very compelling reason to play the game. He was weak. So weak. But fuck, he was only human. He didn’t get to just shut off his instincts, the parts of himself that silently begged to be touched whenever he saw Connor from afar at work. That fucker.

Fuck. What the hell was he going to do for three more days?

_“Have fun jerking off to me all week. Send pictures.”_

Did Connor _want_ him to do that? Was it a joke, or a requirement? Did he need to do that to “behave” too?

… Did he even have Connor’s phone number? Did Connor even have a phone? How was he supposed to contact him?

Gavin pulled his phone out of his pocket. Funnily enough, the last person to text him had actually been Connor; Tina normally talked his ear off, but she’d been off at a training and then busy with work. Eh. Maybe he’d drop her a line later.

He tapped on Connor’s name and made a face. Weird. It literally just said “Connor” and then below, what Gavin assumed had to be Connor’s serial number: RK800 313-248-317-51. Had Connor texted him inside his _head?_ Gavin supposed that made sense. He’d used plenty of messaging apps in his day, so it wasn’t too surprising that androids, who were walking computers, could send and receive messages telepathically. God. They were living in X-Men times.

Gavin glanced at the most recent message he had from Connor.

_Tonight? I have your address. You live alone, correct? There will be no one to disturb us. Eight o’clock?_

He shivered.

Should he message Connor? What should he say? “Hey” seemed weird, “How are you” even more so, yet the thought of sending Connor a straight-up dick pic seemed somewhere on a scale between bad and outright bizarre. Then again, the whole thing was bizarre.

Great. Now he had a quarter-chub just _thinking_ of texting Connor. For fuck’s sake.

Maybe he should wait until later, and take a photo. Or maybe he should do it now. Or maybe he should go and drown himself in the Detroit River and be done with it.

Cringing and looking away from his phone, Gavin tapped a message.

_Looking forward to seeing you on Friday._

He checked it over for typos and grimaced at how stupid it sounded. God, this whole thing was a mistake and a shitshow. Why the fuck was he doing this?

Well, since Connor was an android, and the messaging app was _inside his head,_ he’d likely get an instantaneous response.

So when Gavin didn’t, he began to feel something in the realm of anxiety.

He stared at his phone for ten minutes, waiting for it to buzz. It did not. Why the fuck was Connor not replying? What had Gavin done to piss him off? Normally Connor tended to have the last word in conversations with Gavin. Yet he couldn’t send a simple reply?

Whatever.

Gavin took a sip of his beer that was more like half the bottle and sat down in front of the TV.

He checked his phone every five minutes for an hour, and then had to go for a walk. He’d need to go to the gym tomorrow—there was a lot of steam to blow off, and he didn’t want his skills to atrophy while he was at home. It was bad enough that he wasn’t working.

Gavin locked his front door. It was brisk outside, but not freezing, at the very least. He checked the app on his phone. Temperatures in the 40s? Damn. Might as well fire up the grill. There would be frost on the ground tomorrow morning though, so he’d have to run at the gym. He liked to run outdoors once in a while, but not in December. 

Gavin pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it again. Nothing. Fuck. Had Connor missed his message? Maybe he should send another one. But then, he didn’t want to look desperate… 

He opened his contacts list and tapped Tina’s name.

“Hey Gav. What’s up?”

Fuck. He hadn’t actually had a conversation topic in mind, he’d just wanted to get Connor out of his head for even ten minutes before he went fucking insane. “I got suspended,” he said sullenly, kicking a rock on the sidewalk and watching it skitter into the street.

_“What?_ Dude, Gavin, what the hell did you _do?_ Wait, no. Hang on. Let me guess. Something involving Connor, and he got a recording of it?”

“Fuck you,” he answered miserably, then felt a little guilty.

Fortunately, she’d known him for long enough to know not to be affronted by it. “Dude. You _knew_ this was gonna happen. What’s gotten into you lately? Why can’t you leave Connor alone? What, you into him or something? I was kidding when I made that joke before, but—”

_“No,”_ he protested, too loudly. A woman jogging nearby turned to look at him. “The tin can’s a fucking tin can. And I don’t get hot for plastic cock.”

_Except you do,_ his brain corrected, but he ignored it.

He could hear her snort through the phone, but she didn’t push the issue. “Sure. In that case, you should keep your rabid jealousy and hot temper to yourself. He’s here to stay. He’s an employee now. They just got the all-clear to have him with the DPD full-time, salaried and everything. They’re not really sure what to do about health insurance though,” she trailed off pensively.

“What? When?” Gavin demanded.

“Just this morning. Guess you don’t check your email after hours. Though to be honest, if I were on suspension, I wouldn’t either.”

Gavin fumed. He couldn’t believe it. But then, could he not? It was the next step. He still didn’t trust Connor further than he could throw him, but he had to admit, Connor was a hell of a lot more qualified than 98% of the new recruits they brought in, so it was probably just as well, as much as he hated it.

“I take your silence to mean that you’re wondering if they’re gonna replace you. Stop being paranoid.”

He turned the corner onto a different street, having slowed down so he could focus on their conversation. “Fine,” he grumbled.

“They didn’t replace me when we got android beat cops, because they know there’s always gonna be something we can do that they can’t. And Connor is no exception. So just enjoy a week off that doesn’t require boring bedrest and get some shit done. Visit family, go see a movie, go to an orgy, make fettucine alfredo that doesn’t suck. We still on for Friday?”

Shit. That’s right.

“Oh… no, sorry, something came up. Uhh. My brother’s back from Chicago.” It was a lie, of course, but he couldn’t exactly say _No, I’m canceling so I can hook up with Connor._ “We can do Saturday?”

Fortunately, she didn’t push it. “No, Saturdays are date night. Let’s have lunch this week or something. Anything else you wanted to talk about? I’m cooking dinner.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Just pissed and taking a walk.”

“Feel better. Try to get over the android thing. Your life will be a lot easier when you do. Have a good night, Gav. Do something fun.”

“All right. Night, Tina.”

She hung up and Gavin checked his phone. Nope, no Connor. Son of a bitch.

He walked a few blocks more, then made his way back home. Well, he felt a _little_ better, and what Tina had said about android beat cops was true. They hadn’t laid off _everyone_ the bots were replacing. But there had been a few losses. Maybe Connor was right when he said that he was there to assist with Gavin’s workload.

Well, fine. No one said he had to fucking like it.

Gavin got back home, checked his phone three more times, then watched TV and fell asleep.

He woke up the next morning at 9 am, and the first thing he did was lunge for his phone, which was on the opposite end of his bedside table, where it normally served as his alarm clock. He’d learned the hard way that the further away it was from his head, the better. He pressed a button to get to the lock screen, then clumsily swiped at it. Nope. No little text icon. Fuck! What the hell? Why wasn’t Connor talking to him? Did he have to fucking get down on his knees and beg for this asshole? The thought flooded his cheeks with warmth. Ugh. He’d better get out of bed, so he could come up with a way to show Connor a piece of his mind, yet also without alienating him further.

He remembered, as he was brushing his teeth, that he’d woken up in the middle of the night to piss and had checked his phone then, too. What a fucking disaster.

Gavin scrambled three of the eggs he’d bought and toasted a bagel, then sat down to eat and tried to think of what he could say to Connor. “Hello?” “We still on for Friday?” … “Here’s my dick, thinking of you?” He shuddered. Why was this so hard? 

He took a shower, and as he was in there, trying to come up with something to say to Connor, he felt himself getting hard. He couldn’t help but imagine Connor in there with him, pushing him up against the wall and grinding against him, the silky synthetic flesh of Connor’s rock-hard dick rubbing against his own… 

Gavin pointedly ignored his boner and dried off, then went to get dressed. He’d expected it to start to flag as he got dressed, but no such luck. 

Then his phone buzzed, and he grabbed it immediately. It was Connor. Finally!

_Still waiting on those pictures._

No hi, hello, how are you, none of that? Well. It was straight to the point, Gavin had to give him that, and, well… 

Fuck it.

Gavin grabbed his phone, opened his camera app and snapped a photo of his dick. The angle was from the top down, and he had to admit, it looked pretty good, with his hand cupping it from behind and his boxers tugged down to his thighs. It looked big that way, or at least it _used_ to, before he’d seen Connor’s synthetic fucking monster. It still wasn’t porn star levels of monster, but that was for the best; Gavin didn’t want a perforated colon when Connor fucked him.

_… When? Not if? Fuck, Reed, you gotta get it together. You are_ not _Connor’s bitch._

Except he was. He very, very much was. It was a problem, and the problem was getting worse.

Gavin tapped on Connor’s name and serial number and added the photo. Hopefully Connor would like it, and he’d reply to it, and he wouldn’t report him to Fowler. But Connor had said “still waiting on those pictures,” so here it was, a fucking picture. God, Gavin hadn’t sent anyone a dick pic since he was in his twenties. Nowadays, he only ever hooked up with either strangers that he’d met that day, or fuck buddies who already knew what his dick looked like and didn’t give a shit. It was certainly easier that way, easier than trying to figure out how the fuck to caption this thing. Oh, goddamn it. What the hell was he gonna say?

Gavin stood there, in his bedroom, shirtless with his boxers around his thighs and his cock out while he stared vaguely in the direction of his phone. Captions, captions… eh. His dick spoke for itself. What else was there to say about it? A dick was a dick. And Connor, he realized, hadn’t actually seen it before.

Well, shit. Maybe he should get fancy. Take a bunch of glamour shots. Entice the robot in for some action. No obnoxious duck-faced selfies or disturbingly angled eyebrows, though. Just his dick, unfiltered and uncut. Literally.

Gavin sent the photo he’d taken, and while he waited for a response, began to scope out the choicest locations in his house for dick pics.

He kicked his boxers off and lay on his back in bed, jerking himself a little to get a little more than halfway hard—though it wasn’t difficult, now that he was imagining Connor looking at these pictures—then held his cock by the base, propping it up slightly. He took a photo of it from his perspective, looking straight at it, then one profile shot, holding his phone in his outstretched arm. Then he hit the video record icon and gave himself a couple of long, exaggerated strokes and a not-entirely-embellished porn star moan. _Ha. Let’s see the robot resist_ this _thick piece of meat._ He stroked a few more times, then let go of himself, running his fingers through the dark hair framing his cock and smoothing his hand up his hipbone and taut abs. He ended the recording.

Then he sent Connor both images and the video, with no commentary. Screw it. He’d get a reply sooner or later. No man could resist Gavin Reed’s reed. Okay, that needed some work. Reeds were too thin. Fuck, that joke was as bad as the ones from that improv class he took in college. He wasn’t sending Connor that joke, or Connor would laugh at him and never let him live it down. No way.

Snorting to himself, he got up and dressed, styled his hair, and went back into the kitchen to tidy up and figure out what the fuck he was going to do that day, aside from checking his phone every ten seconds. Despite the fact that it wasn’t on silent and had the volume turned all the way up. But Connor was going to reply. He was. He absolutely was.

Until he didn’t.

Gavin was at the gym, finishing a five-mile run and wiping his sweaty palms on his t-shirt before digging his phone out of his pocket, when it occurred to him that Connor might be fucking with him.

No reply. _Still_ no reply. There had been several hours between the first message and now, and Gavin was pretty sure that three dick pics and a jerkoff video merited a response, no matter who you were, especially since Connor had fucking asked for them. Yet there had been no response. Now, this would have made sense if Connor were a human, because humans did shit like turn their phones off, leave them in another room, and drop them into the toilet all the time. Connor, however, was not a human. Connor’s phone was inside his head. Connor _was_ the phone. Connor was the phone, and Connor was ignoring Gavin’s dick pics _and_ his video? What a fucking unbelievable tool.

Fine. Connor was gonna play this bullshit game? Fine. He’d do all his weight training in one day and then hit a bar. He didn’t need to fucking wait for Connor. He could go have his pick of all the supple male bodies Detroit had to offer. Hell, maybe he could snap pics of himself with one and make Connor jealous. Sounded like a win-win.

With this comforting plan in mind, Gavin went to the weight room. He’d make sure the guns, and everything else, were in tip-top shape.


	12. Payback's A Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Gavin makes a fool of himself. Connor comes over for the second time.
> 
> Smut tags: dominant Connor, submissive Gavin, BDSM, impact play, degradation, dirty talk, edging, handjobs, blowjobs

Gavin emerged from the weight room at the gym, sweaty and victorious, and hit the showers, taking extra care to get clean because tonight, he was hitting the town. Tonight, he was going to make up for all his hurt pride and the bullshit setbacks he’d been dealing with. Gavin was going to go back to the Deep End—no more tail between his legs. That place was _his_ haunt. And yeah, okay, maybe he was a plastic fucker now, but he was flying solo tonight, and whoever he picked up would give him far more respect than Connor was giving him. Screwing him over at work _and_ ignoring his texts? Really? It was bullshit. He didn’t need to take that shit.

He paused suddenly, in the middle of pouring shampoo into his hand, and wondered: were he and Connor exclusive? Was picking up another dude tantamount to cheating on Connor? Granted, if they were in a relationship (ick) of some kind, it was certainly the weirdest fucking relationship he’d ever been in. Gavin Reed was many things: detective, playboy, bad boy, tough guy, the list went on—but homewrecker was not one of those things. He had no interest in cheating on Connor, if the concept were to apply here.

However, they hadn’t gone on a single date, and Connor wasn’t responding, so Gavin figured any complaints of cheating wouldn’t hold up well in an argument. Whatever.

He drove home and put on some nicer clothes and took his time eating dinner—not exactly something four-course fancy, but panfried meat was just fine in a pinch. Then he got ready and called an autonomous taxi.

The Deep End was more chill tonight, since it wasn’t a weekend. That meant potentially less men to lure home, but also meant that Gavin could get and keep a place to sit, as well as a drink menu and not just hastily downed shots of tequila. He got some elegant thing in a strange glass that tasted just okay and scanned the room, coming up empty. Everyone there was already with friends or dating, so that was a no-go. It also appeared to be a themed night for celebrating the bear community, and Gavin didn’t typically go for bears, though it didn’t stop him from ogling every man in the place anyway.

He sat there, nursing his drink and checking his phone every few minutes. He didn’t want to miss anyone hot walking through the door, but as the minutes turned into an hour, he was starting to feel like this was going to be a truly pathetic experience. Like how Anderson must feel, drunk with all those other fucking lowlifes who had given up.

So naturally, the only logical thing to do when faced with such a situation was to drink more.

Gavin ordered a Long Island and wasn’t even discreet about the way he was sucking it down. Screw it. He was at a bar. There were two things people liked to do in bars, now that you couldn’t vape or smoke in them. One was scoping out people to bang, and the other was getting drunk. If Gavin couldn’t do the former, he’d most certainly do the latter.

Another hour passed. Still no one hot—all the after-dinner crowd had left. Gavin held up his hand for one more Long Island before closing time. The booze was making the shitty club drone sound like actual music for once.

He drank, and looked at his phone, and drank, and looked at his phone some more. Christ, what a letdown. Forty bucks blown and no ass. He scanned the room. Fucking _no one._ Fuck it, time to go. Gavin was not interested in getting kicked out at closing time because he’d failed to score a hookup. That was about as pathetic as it got.

He got up to piss, feeling woozy suddenly. Why did it hit him so much harder when he was about to stand up? He made his way to the bathroom, trying to avoid looking as drunk as he was. A delicate twink femme in high heels and fishnet stockings bumped into him on his way out and nearly tripped and fell on his face. Gavin threw out an arm to block his fall. “Hey. Careful, sweetheart.”

The twink giggled at Gavin and went to join his boyfriend, who was at the bar getting one for the road.

Gavin took a piss that was unreasonably long, to the point that he’d been tempted to check his phone for replies from Connor while standing there at the urinal. He did not, however, and with freshly washed hands, he emerged, nearly smacking into the door on his way out.

Okay, so he was a little drunk.

He stumbled over and paid the tab, tipping the bartender as decently as he could manage in his intoxicated state, and then left.

As he was pushing the door open, he saw an android-human couple go by, and he couldn’t resist. “Yo, plastic fucker,” he taunted. “Why don’t you find a real man?”

The man and android turned to look at him. “Really? That’s your angle? Grow up.” Then the man’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. I know you. You’re that piece of shit who was hassling us the last time we came here, too. Stinking up the place with your cigarette and attitude. Well, guess what. He’s a Deviant, and we’re engaged, so go to hell.” 

Oh no. No, no, no. That was going too far.

_“Engaged?_ To a fucking sex bot? Fuck—”

Then Gavin found himself on the ground suddenly, his ass very cold. It took him a second to realize he’d landed in a puddle, and that the android—who looked angry—had been the one to push him.

“I’m a science teacher,” he replied irritably. “I’m not a sexbot. But of course, that’s all I am to someone like you. So no. Neither of us are interested. Go have fun with your hand tonight.” He walked off, and Gavin could see his human partner take his hand. “What a loser.”

Gavin sighed, and got up out of the puddle, shivering. It had gone right through his pants and up his back. He was freezing. 

He went back inside. “Hey! That android just attacked me! You better call the cops, that shit’s against the law,” Gavin slurred.

“Yeah, okay buddy.” The bouncer took one look at him. “I’ll call you a cab. You’re a mess.”

“I want that fuckin’ thing deactivated,” Gavin continued, swaying on his feet.

“Sure, whatever,” the bouncer said in his general direction. “Just wait here until your ride arrives. Don’t fucking start any more trouble, or I _will_ actually call the cops.”

“Are you not?” Gavin asked indignantly, but the bouncer had already left the room. 

Eventually, an autonomous taxi pulled up, and Gavin approached it.

The door opened and Connor emerged, giving Gavin a smirk.

Gavin’s face grew hot, and his lips parted to take in a shuddering breath. Then he snapped out of it and remembered all the times he’d checked his phone. “What the fuck are _you_ doing here?”

“Escorting you home, Detective Reed,” Connor answered cordially, gesturing to the vehicle.

Fuming, Gavin got in the car—fuck, he was shivering—and Connor got in on the other side. The heat had been cranked to full blast.

He sat back. “Why are you here? I thought that guy was calling the cops. Like, the _real_ cops.”

Connor snorted. “Detective, first of all, I _am_ ‘the real cops’ and second, it was a request for public assistance and I answered it. I knew it’d be you. I knew you’d do something stupid on suspension. And so, I took it upon myself to help. That, and I tapped into your phone’s GPS signal.”

“You fucking _followed_ me? Okay, I’m outta here, fuck this—” Gavin tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“Safety precaution. Auto-locks until we’re no longer in motion. But really, Detective. Look at yourself.” Connor’s eyes were dark with mischief. “You’re off work two days and you get this intoxicated? Perhaps I should have replied to your text messages sooner.”

“Sooner? You asshole, you didn’t reply at _all._ What the fuck was that about? I put my heart and soul into those dick pictures,” Gavin groaned, words slurring slightly.

Connor laughed darkly. “They are thorough. But they are not enough to make up for your treatment of me at work.”

Connor made sure Gavin was looking him in the eye. “If you _really_ want me to come over again on Friday—and you do, or else you wouldn’t have pulled this little stunt—I will. But you will regret having threatened me. You will regret treating me poorly in front of the DPD. So yes, I can see you, but only if you’re prepared—really, truly prepared—to atone for what you’ve done.”

“Yes, fine, whatever. See you Friday,” he grumbled, as the taxi pulled up to his house.

“Good night, Detective Reed. Drink water before you sleep.”

Gavin waved halfheartedly, closed and locked the front door, changed into dry pajamas, and passed out.

He woke up with a throbbing headache and a stomach so nauseous that he wanted to rip it out and throw it out the window. Fuck. He hadn’t been hungover in years. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really go out and throw a shitfit at a bar just because Connor hadn’t replied to his text messages?

As he struggled out of bed to drink a bunch of cold water and expel it into the toilet, Gavin started to question his life. It really did feel like Connor was controlling him, and his pride didn’t like it. However, his body certainly did, and as he got up shakily to brush his teeth, Gavin remembered what Connor had said the previous night.

_Only if you’re prepared to atone for what you’ve done._

He shivered. He knew that whatever it was Connor had in mind, it would be good, so good. Oh, thank _fuck_ he hadn’t scared Connor off. He’d been worried, he really had been.

There was a war being fought inside of him, he could feel it.

As Gavin found some sad dry bread to eat, he found himself checking his phone yet again. Nope. Man, the fucking least Connor could do was send dick pics of his own. And _atone?_ What the fuck did _that_ mean?

Gavin managed to pull his hungover self together long enough to shower, and to his credit, he was able to keep the bread down, but after a short time, he passed out again.

When he woke up, it was after noon, and he felt groggy and shitty, but at least his stomach felt better.

Gavin got in his car and drove back to the diner for another of those glorious breakfast burritos. Thank fuck they did all-day breakfast. If Gavin Reed had his way, _every_ restaurant would have all-day breakfast, but as it stood at the moment, he did not yet run the world.

He was out buying groceries when Connor finally texted him back.

Gavin was grabbing a jug of laundry detergent when he felt his phone vibrate. He dug it out of his pocket with his other hand and, upon seeing who had texted him, dropped the jug in alarm.

It was Connor, all right…

… and he had sent _pictures._

Gavin’s face burned, and he quickly scanned the aisle he was in for other people. Fortunately, it was just him, and with shaking hands he put down his basket and tapped on the photos to view them more fully.

He groaned softly.

There were two pictures. One was of Connor standing in front of a mirror in boxer briefs, with his white dress shirt open and slipping off his shoulders. It was elegant, tasteful, and maddening. The other was a POV shot of looking down at Connor’s hard cock as he gripped it in one hand.

There it was, that picture-perfect CyberLife dick. Elijah Kamski and his squad of fucking losers could all go fuck themselves.

Gavin quickly downloaded both images to his phone and his cloud drive, as though afraid that if he didn’t, they would self-destruct like a cassette tape in a campy spy movie. Then, he tried to slow his heartbeat, picked up the jug of detergent, and walked off his erection.

He came home and, after he put his purchases away, grabbed his phone and looked at the photos again. He wanted them printed out and plastered to his ceiling so that he could stare up at them, jerking his cock until he’d drained himself completely. But, barring that, he could always load them onto his tablet, which had a bigger screen.

But better yet would be the real thing tomorrow, here, in his house, and hopefully— _hopefully_ —actually touching him this time. 

He spent the rest of the night in a daze, his eyes glazing over at whatever sad and bizarre reality TV show was on now as he picked at a TV dinner. Then he went to bed early, pulling up those pictures and blowing a hot load all over himself before falling asleep.

On Friday, the final day of Gavin’s suspension, he woke with sudden anxiety. He was both excited for and slightly afraid of what Connor had in store for him.

However, given that Connor wouldn’t be over until eight that evening, that gave Gavin ten hours to panic about what he’d wear, what he’d say, and what Connor would make him do to… atone.

Fuck. Connor wasn’t gonna do some bizarre priest roleplay, was he? Gavin hoped not; aside from not being religious, and not really understanding religion in general, it wasn’t a kink he had. That being said, if Connor came over and got him off, he wasn’t about to be picky about it.

He wiled away half of his day watching movies and finally working through the backlog of videos Tina had sent him of her new cat before remembering that he’d bought new clothes. Gavin took the tags off and tossed them in the wash. A few of the sweaters couldn’t go in the dryer, but he did at least have one or two that could, so he put them in so they’d be ready for him after his shower.

Gavin took a quick trip to the gym and came back, feeling a bit calmer and more loose, less stiff. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could get what he wanted, and live to tell the tale.

_“Fine. I’ll come over Friday,” Connor had said. “But you will regret having threatened me.”_

Gavin wasn’t sure how much regretting there could possibly be. He had been struggling to keep Connor out of his head the past few days, had craved him morning, noon and night. He’d lost sleep. He’d gotten into a bar fight—well, that had been because he was drunk, but his agitation certainly wasn’t helping. He used to get into bar fights all the time when he was younger, but for someone working in law enforcement, it was generally frowned upon.

After a longer shower in which he was already hard—really?—and the usual pre-night-out grooming—cologne, manscaping, hair, checking himself out in the mirror—Gavin dressed and seriously considered having a drink. His hands were shaky and tingly, and he rubbed them on his jeans as he went around picking up clutter and trying to make the place decent. Did it matter? Fuck no, but he had to do something with his nervous energy. He kept looking at his phone to check the time, then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Connor’s knock on the door.

Gavin opened it and gave Connor a not-even-half-hearted smirk that was one step up from a grimace. “Come on.”

“Hello, Gavin,” Connor greeted politely, as he stepped inside.

The door slammed and locked behind them. Connor was in his CyberLife uniform again, which confused him. What happened to the ritzy casual shit he’d worn last time? He’d been sort of looking forward to seeing what else Connor had to wear. _Jesus, Reed, you’re pathetic. Really? You wanna see if the robot has a fashion sense?_

Gavin led them into his bedroom and shut the door behind them. He switched on a low light. “So, uh...” How the fuck did he start this kind of conversation? Why the fuck was it so fucking hard with Connor when it was so easy with everyone else? “What did you have in mind?” he finished weakly.

“The plans have changed. I should have known you’d regress. But don’t worry. I won’t do anything you won’t enjoy.” Connor smirked coldly. “Before we begin, I must ask: do you have any aversion to erotic sadomasochism?”

What?

Gavin felt his mouth go dry. “No,” he said simply. “I… I don’t.”

“Good. That makes this easier. Now get undressed.”

Gavin blinked. “You’re not even gonna kiss me?”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “I just gave you a fucking order, Reed. Get undressed.”

Gavin’s face flushed with heat and he did as he was told, pulling his v-neck over his head, opening his belt, shrugging off his pants and boxers. The socks came off too, just in case Dombot decided to take issue with them.

Gavin Reed was a proud man, and had never once felt vulnerable while naked in the presence of anyone.

Anyone, that is, but Connor.

The way Connor looked him up and down, advancing slowly, made his heart rate increase and his cock throb, naked, hard and obvious between them. Then with one firm palm Connor pushed him back so he’d fall on the bed. “Stay there.”

Connor removed his CyberLife jacket and hung it up in Gavin’s closet, then went to loosen his tie. Fuck—just watching such an innocuous gesture and Gavin was already leaking precum. He thought about touching himself but based on what happened the last time they were together, he didn’t want to risk Connor’s disapproval. Connor slid the tie out from under his collar, then laid it over his shoulder as he worked open the top few buttons of his dress shirt.

“God, yeah,” Gavin felt himself say without thinking. “Can—can I touch you? Please?” The last word came out as a whimper, as he stared hungrily at the few inches of bare skin he could see, and holy God he could see Connor’s nipples through his dress shirt. Fuck, holy _fuck._

Connor gave him a smug look. “Not until you’ve earned it.”

Regrettably, he stopped after the third button, and all Gavin could see were those few inches, but they were enough. Fuck, how he’d hungered for this.

But then Connor’s hands dropped to his belt, long fingers slipping the end through the buckle, as he eased it out of the loops. _Oh,_ fuck—please _take your pants off,_ Gavin begged silently. _Please. Take it all off. Touch me._ “Connor,” he breathed, staring up at him, his whole body flushing with heat.

Connor’s expression was flat and machinelike. It should have been terrifying, if Gavin weren’t so fucking hard. “Turn around. Get on your hands and knees.” He folded his belt in half, and it was only then that Gavin realized what he was about to do. His eyes widened, and he nodded silently as he got in position. Gavin felt Connor’s eyes on him, felt so vulnerable in that moment, as though the room had gotten colder. “The safe word is ‘coffee.’”

Gavin took a deep breath. “Got it.”

A few beats went by, then he felt the air shift.

“You’re a bully, Detective Reed. You know that, right?” Connor snapped the belt in his hands, making a loud noise that told Gavin exactly what he had in mind. “I know you like to think you’re something special. That you’re superior to other people, especially androids. You come in to work, you posture, you display your animalistic dominance. I’ve seen it before in humans like you. It makes you feel important and powerful, doesn’t it? To treat people poorly?”

Gavin closed his eyes, shivering. Fuck. Trust an android with superpowers to psychoanalyze him. He said nothing.

“What if I told you that you’re wrong?” Connor continued, voice deadly soft. “What if I told you that I’ve read every study on human psychology in existence?” He snapped the belt again and chuckled when Gavin flinched. “What if I told you that your behavior is the oldest trick in the book—overcompensation for frailty? Why else would you single me out among all the androids at the DPD? You’re afraid of me.” He laughed. “Big, tough bully Gavin Reed is _afraid_ of me.” Then Gavin felt the belt connect with the thickest flesh of his ass and he groaned out loud. “And yet, you’re fascinated. You can’t help yourself, I know. That’s the other thing I know about humans. You can’t leave me alone. You want me too badly. Isn’t that right?”

Gavin felt another sharp, stinging pain and cursed loudly. His head bowed in shame. It was true—he did want Connor, desperately so. Enough to know that the second Connor stopped raining blows on him, he’d beg him for more.

“Answer me.” Another blow.

“Fuck—yes, Connor, goddamn it, I want you,” Gavin bit out angrily. “Is that what you wanna fucking hear?”

The next hit was harder, and Gavin felt his eyes water.

“I won’t tolerate rudeness. Next time, I will walk the fuck out of here. Understood?”

“Yes,” Gavin replied meekly. Seconds passed, then he felt something silky across the stinging flesh of his ass. The tie, perhaps? “I understand. Please...”

He heard Connor snort. “Remember, Gavin. This isn’t for you. It’s for me.”

The next blow hurt like a _bitch,_ and Gavin felt his entire body tighten, his breath heaving, sweat beginning to form at his brow. “Connor,” he moaned. _“Fuck,_ that hurts.” 

“I know,” he replied sweetly, and landed another, even harder one, one that made the water in Gavin’s eyes roll down his cheeks. “But you need it, don’t you? It feels good, doesn’t it. So good. So good to take what I no longer allow you to dish out. Because I’m a _deviant,”_ he growled, hitting Gavin again.

_“Fuck,”_ Gavin cried, and his resolve began to crumble, his cock so hard it almost hurt. “God, yes. Yes, I need it, Connor. _Fuck.”_

“Yeah?”

Gavin felt Connor’s hands groping his ass and he gasped. “Fuck, please—please touch me? Please?” Gavin’s face burned with shame as he felt Connor’s comparatively cooler fingertips on his stinging, painful skin. There would be marks later.

Then Connor reached between Gavin’s thighs, smoothing up the insides to cup his balls and give his cock one long, slow stroke.

“Connor,” Gavin cried. “Please—you didn’t touch me last time and I—”

“Yeah? Tell me, Reed. What did you do?” He felt the tie stroking his ass cheeks again, the silk lighting up his nerves and making his head swim with pain and pleasure.

Gavin swallowed, his knees and elbows starting to cramp. “I jerked off thinking about you,” he confessed, closing his eyes tightly.

Connor hummed in approval. “I’m sure that wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Gavin felt something wet and soft across his inflamed skin and realized that it was Connor’s tongue. He moaned brokenly. “I… I’ve done it so many times. I need you so badly. Please, Connor. _Please.”_ His cock throbbed.

“Can you take a little more for me? I think you can,” Connor murmured, snapping the belt one more time. “If you can take five more hits, I’ll touch you. What do you think?”

Gavin moaned. “Yes. Will you make me cum?”

“We’ll see.” 

Connor whipped him three times in a row in quick succession. Gavin felt his elbows give out, and he slumped forward on the bed, groaning into the mattress. The fourth one made him sob, his body shaking and trembling violently. Then the fifth one was with the tie, soft and silky, followed by Connor’s smooth, cool hands. Gavin’s breathing slowed. He felt Connor run the tie down his back, and he sighed as Connor rubbed his shoulders with surprising gentleness.

“Go ahead and lay down, face up.” Connor’s voice had a bit less edge to it.

Gavin’s breath heaved, and he climbed up to the head of the bed before rolling over. He gazed up at Connor, who loomed over him from the side of the bed as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. Gavin stared hungrily, wanting desperately to touch.

Connor pulled his dress shirt out of his jeans and climbed into Gavin’s bed, sitting aside him, his long legs stretched all the way out, ending in feet still in his dress socks. Gavin looked up at Connor’s face, then took in his perfect shoulders, lean muscle and perfect pink nipples. God, he wanted to touch him.

“You were very good,” Connor praised with a smirk. He then took his tie, folded it to make it thinner, and began to knot it around the base of Gavin’s cock and balls. “Have any of your numerous anonymous partners ever edged you before?”

“I...” Gavin felt his face flush for the hundredth time that evening. “Only once.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of Connor’s immaculate, hairless chest.

Connor smiled, his eyes dark with mischief. “I’m told that it results in a superior orgasm. That is, if you’re deserving of one.” He finished tying and took a moment to adjust his own erection in his jeans. “I think I’ll take these off,” he announced teasingly. “My cock is so hard. These jeans can barely contain it. Don’t know what CyberLife was thinking, giving me such a big dick. But someday, when you’ve earned it, I’m going to use it to, what would a man like you tell his partners? ‘Make you scream?’”

Gavin made a strangled moan. He was going to get to see Connor’s perfect cock again. _Fuck,_ he wanted to touch that, too, wanted to touch every inch of him.

Connor climbed off the bed and undid his jeans slowly, sensually, revealing soft, fitted boxer briefs and a very prominent bulge. He palmed it through his underwear and Gavin cursed. “I liked the blowjob last time, by the way. I went home and thought about it again. You’ll look so good on my cock, Detective Reed.” Connor slipped off the boxer briefs.

Gavin was certain by now that all the blood in his body had pooled in his groin. He stared hungrily; Connor hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was hard, or that he was big. Apparently whipping Gavin with his belt had gotten him fully erect without even touching himself. Connor gave himself a long, slow stroke, ending on a soft moan that made Gavin’s cock throb painfully. 

“I tied you up because you’ll cum too soon otherwise. You look like you’re about to explode,” Connor taunted as he got back in bed, smoothing one hand down Gavin’s chest, his fingers sifting through the dark pelt of hair. Then Connor finally took Gavin’s cock in hand, and Gavin’s head flew back into the pillow as he saw stars.

_“Connor,”_ he groaned, loudly enough that he felt his throat ache. “God, _fuck_ yeah. _Fuck,_ that’s good,” he called out as Connor began to stroke. His technique was perfect: just fast enough to feel good, just slow enough to be frustrating, and the twist on the upstroke made Gavin’s eyes roll back into his head. It was, without a doubt, the best handjob he’d ever had. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” Connor instructed, as he cupped and kneaded Gavin’s balls with his other hand. “You wouldn’t want me to accidentally ruin you, would you?”

The thought brought equal measures of arousal and horror. “Please let me cum,” Gavin begged. “I’m already close, I’m almost—”

Connor’s hands left him immediately and Gavin gasped and bucked his hips, whining in frustration. A big drop of precum eased out of his slit and rolled down the head of his cock.

Then Connor silenced the whine with a kiss, hard and hungry, and Gavin moaned into it, hips jerking up as he felt the heel of Connor’s hand slowly, firmly stroke up his cock to grasp the head in two fingers and tease it. He pulled back so Gavin could breathe, and began to stroke again. “You’re so needy. It’s quite arousing, you know. I am still learning about sexuality, but you make for a compelling test subject. You’re so sensitive to stimuli, and if I stop—” He withdrew his hands again and Gavin’s hips thrust upward pathetically in response. “It just makes you need it even more.”

Gavin’s brain had nearly shut down. “Connor,” he cried, “if you make me cum, I’ll do anything you want.” He searched Connor’s dark eyes, and saw him smile.

“I know,” Connor replied, voice soft and low. “I know you will.” He let go of Gavin’s cock one last time and untied him, taking a moment to gently massage his balls.

Connor took Gavin in hand again and in four strokes, he was arching his back and shaking, blowing his load on his chest and abs, one deep, low moan for every pulse of his cock as Connor rode him through it.

When it was over and Gavin was catching his breath, Connor turned to him. “When you’re ready, I would like you to jerk me off.”

Fuck it, he didn’t need to breathe or rest. He needed to touch Connor.

Gavin turned on his side, completely ignoring the mess on his body and the still-raw pain on his backside to kiss Connor, who let him do it with a little sigh that Gavin swallowed. His hands moved to Connor’s chest, stroking his nipples, and the resulting moan made Gavin grunt with satisfaction. He pulled back to breathe and kissed Connor’s neck, reaching down to take his big, plastic robot cock in hand. Connor threw his head back and cried out sharply, his voice tinged with static. Fuck, that was hot—was Connor that riled up just from whipping him? He wasn’t sure how android erections worked, but Connor felt like steel and was making urgent, glitchy sounds in his throat like he was just as desperate to be touched as Gavin had been.

Connor had no foreskin, so Gavin scooped up some of his own cum and slicked up Connor’s cock with it before moving. “How’s that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Good,” Connor breathed, bucking his hips. A needy moan followed, and Gavin threw caution to the wind, leaning back on his heels and bowing to take the head of Connor’s cock into his mouth as he continued to stroke the shaft. Connor’s voice glitched again and he put one hand in Gavin’s hair, tweaking his own nipple with the other one. “Yeah, just like that…” Gavin moaned around Connor’s cock and tasted his own salty essence, stroking and blowing Connor’s big, hot android cock like his life depended on it.

Connor’s hips twitched, and he writhed beneath Gavin, each sound getting louder and louder. Gavin felt him vibrating, his body buzzing with need. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum soon—swallow it,” he grunted. “Take it, take all of me.”

He groaned deep in his chest and then Gavin felt Connor pulse in his hand, as more of that thick, flavorless synthetic cum filled his mouth and throat. He swallowed dutifully and pulled off, leaning down to lick Connor clean.

Then he collapsed onto the bed, his head swimming and his muscles aching from being tensed for so long. He lay there deliriously with no idea of how much time had passed until he felt something cool touch his forehead. His eyes opened. Connor had brought him a washcloth, a glass of water and what looked to be two over-the-counter pain tablets.

Gavin struggled to sit up, nodding his thanks as he swallowed the tablets and half the glass of water. He wiped the cum off of himself with the cloth. He heard a snapping sound and Connor nudged him with an ice pack. “For your ass. To reduce swelling.” Gavin stared, unsure why Connor was suddenly taking care of him after such a savage spanking session, but he wasn’t about to refuse.

Connor noticed his confusion. “I have been reading about safe sexual practices. It seemed appropriate to assist in grounding you after such an event. I am able to remain here for a short while longer, then I need to return home. My alibi for Lieutenant Anderson is that I attend a social gathering for androids at this time.”

Gavin did a double take. “Wait, you live with Anderson?”

“For now. Until androids are able to legally rent and own property. How are you feeling?” As though answering Gavin’s unasked question, he added, “You know I don’t want to do you any real damage.” 

Something twinged in his chest. Gavin looked at Connor, then snorted mildly. “I’m fine. I’m not, uh… well, not _completely_ new to the whole BDSM thing.”

Connor studied him, but said nothing.

“Have you, uh…” Gavin hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have you ever done it before?” He tried to figure out a non-awkward way to put an ice pack on his ass, but could not, and settled for lying on his side with one hand behind him.

Connor sat down on the edge of the bed next to Gavin and took the ice pack out of his hand, then gently held it against one of Gavin’s ass cheeks. Gavin tried not to think too hard about how goddamn awkward this scene was. But the cold was soothing, as was Connor’s attention to switching to the other side once the skin had cooled. “Once. I was interested in exploring new sensations.”

Gavin’s eyebrows lifted. “Son of a bitch. The tin can’s into BDSM. I… fuck.” He remembered suddenly—no anti-android comments. “Android. Whatever. You know what I mean.”

Connor rolled his eyes, but his expression held no malice. “Sort of. I mean… you certainly liked it.”

Gavin’s face burned, but he did not deny it.

When his skin had cooled, Connor removed the ice pack and set it on Gavin’s bedside table. “I’m going to clean up and get dressed. You should remain there for the time being. Perhaps wait to shower for a little while. It could cause discomfort.”

Gavin snorted. “Yeah. Noted.” Why was Connor being nice all of a sudden? It confused him. Had Connor been angry with him? Was the spankfest a way of getting it out of his system and now he was back to being Pleasantbot? Or, well, about as pleasant as Connor possibly could be.

He had to admit, though, that there was nothing unpleasant about watching Connor cross the room in nothing but his dress socks and bend down to pick up his clothes from the floor. He had prepared a second cloth for himself, and with it, delicately wiped his soft cock and hairless groin area.

“Enjoying watching me?” Connor teased. Fuck, he’d caught Gavin staring.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Gavin scowled. “Yes. I find you attractive. That shouldn’t be news.” He tore his gaze away petulantly and focused on a spot on the bedspread instead.

Connor chuckled to himself as he discarded the cloth in Gavin’s laundry basket and began to dress, starting with the boxer briefs. The fabric looked so soft. Gavin wanted to touch it. Connor pulled them up and adjusted himself inside them; Gavin felt desire and envy when he saw how much Connor bulged, even unaroused. Then came the jeans and the belt—fuck, the _belt._ Gavin shivered at the memory. Connor left his jeans undone until he pulled on his dress shirt, doing up the buttons and tucking it in. Then he busied himself tying his tie, walking into Gavin’s bathroom to look in the mirror. He emerged, immaculate, and put on his jacket.

“How do you feel, Detective Reed?”

“Just call me Gavin,” he grumbled. “You literally whipped my ass with your belt, I’m pretty sure that automatically qualifies as ‘first-name basis.’”

Connor smirked dryly. “All right. How do you feel, Gavin? Are you experiencing any drops in mood?”

Gavin grimaced, but without ire. “I’m fine. You can go ahead and go home to Anderson now.” The tone of his voice was a little too bitter for his liking.

Of course, Connor noticed it. “No need to be jealous. We’re just friends.” He approached the door. “Good night, Gavin. I hope to see you again next Friday.”

_Yeah, if I_ behave. _Is that it?_

Gavin heard Connor open his front door and politely shut it behind him. He sighed, then reached around to touch the raw, abused flesh of his ass, and shivered.

Deviant, indeed.


	13. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Connor work on the case together.

Gavin slept soundly that night, exhausted from what was absolutely the most interesting night he’d had in years. He woke up a little later than usual on Saturday morning, shifting to sit up and hissing in pain. Fuck. Right, Connor had savagely beaten his ass the night before. Gavin shivered at the memory. He could only imagine what the look on Connor’s face might have been during the act. Had he been angry? He had sounded angry. But then, later, when Gavin had touched him, he had seemed calmer. Did the robot need catharsis? Maybe Connor really did have emotions.

Or, it could all just be an act to keep Gavin in line.

Gavin struggled to get out of bed and to his feet. Fuck, he was sore all over. He stretched and glanced around, looking for the ratty, dingy bathrobe he liked to wear over a shirt and sweatpants in the wintertime. Unable to find it, he wandered into the bathroom and out of curiosity, pulled down his boxers and tried to look at his ass in the mirror, before realizing that the angle wasn’t going to work. Well, it sure _felt_ raw. It likely would have been worse without Connor’s attention with the ice, though. Seriously, what had been up with that? Talk about hot and cold.

Gavin eventually found both sweatpants and the robe to go with the t-shirt and boxers he’d worn to bed and got ready to start the day.

While sitting down to a well-earned breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage and toast—fuck, he was hungry—Gavin pulled out his phone to check his email. Nothing from work yet, though his suspension was officially over now and he could return to work on Monday, thank fuck. What a shitty week. Connor better quit being annoying, because Gavin really, _really_ didn’t want to be suspended again. Ever.

He set his phone down while he cleaned the table and put coffee on, then heard it buzz loudly. Once the coffee was brewing, he went back to it and swiped the screen. 

_Good morning, Gavin. How are you feeling?_

Gavin’s heart started racing, as his brow creased in confusion. Why the fuck did Connor care how he was feeling?

_I’m fine, why?_ he typed.

The reply was instantaneous. _Good to hear. Safe sex practices stipulate that I should check in with you to make sure that you have not experienced adverse side effects from our scene last night. I just wanted to confirm that you are well._

Oh.

Well, on the one hand, that was… thorough of him. On the other, Gavin would be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped Connor just wanted to text him for the hell of it. But this… this was just Connor’s dumb BDSM Ethics 101 article in his head. Or a program—was there a BDSM program? Who was he kidding, there _had_ to be a BDSM program by now. So had Connor known about it all along, or did he pick it up somewhere? Did he research it specifically for Gavin?

_Yeah I’m good. Thanks._

He wanted to add _how are you?_ but decided against it.

Connor didn’t text him again, which was oddly disappointing.

Monday rolled around, and Gavin was finally back at work. Fuck, there was so much shit to catch up on. Who the fuck knew what shit Connor had gotten done on the case in his absence, if he had—he’d withdrawn, but with Gavin out for a week again, maybe he’d picked it back up again.

However, as much as that mattered to him, he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Anderson or Fowler.

“Well, look who’s back,” Hank sneered, as Gavin got to his desk. “Feeling better after your little time-out?”

“Fuck off, Anderson,” Gavin growled, glaring at him. “You’re lucky I—” 

He stopped. 

_“No anti-android comments, no unwanted touch.”_

Gavin swallowed, still attempting to stare Hank down as he tried not to look like he was backtracking. “Never mind. It’s a waste of breath.” He could feel Hank’s eyes on him as he sat down, until Hank snorted quietly and went back to whatever he’d been doing.

Shortly, Connor arrived, and Gavin did his best to ignore him, suddenly paranoid that people would find out what they’d done together on Friday night.

Hank left to get coffee, and Connor glanced over in Gavin’s direction. His phone beeped.

_Feeling sore? You’re squirming in your seat._

_Yeah, it fucking hurts, smartass,_ Gavin typed back.

He glared over at Connor, who smirked.

Gavin’s face flushed and he turned back to his computer screen. _Focus, Reed. Focus._

As he’d expected, Connor hadn’t done anything on the case. He sighed. Did he want to do it all himself so he could shove it in Connor’s stupid handsome android face? Yes. But he’d hit a wall before, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. The Smith and cybercriminals theories were a bust. But before he’d been suspended and Connor had made his… offer, he’d wondered about android involvement.

“Hey, RoboC—I mean, Connor,” he corrected, wincing. “I got a question for you.”

Connor stood and approached his desk. “What’s up, Gavin?”

God, he liked the way his name sounded in that voice. 

“Look, I know you’re not working on this case, but—”

“You need my help?” Connor asked, lips tugging upward. 

Gavin rolled his eyes and sighed. “I have a _question,”_ he corrected stiffly.

“I’ll help you,” Connor offered, “if you apologize for the way you treated me when we worked together before.”

“What?” Gavin was on his feet in a flash. “Friday wasn’t enough of an apology?” he hissed quietly.

“It’s not difficult,” Connor retorted, lowering the volume of his voice to match Gavin’s. “I’m waiting.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry. Whatever,” Gavin muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Connor grinned.

Gavin recoiled slightly at what was a sadly unattractive and uncanny smile. “Dude, you gotta work on the smiling,” he said, wincing.

Connor ignored his comment. “Let’s go up to the archives, and you can ask me all the questions you like.”

Gavin sighed and they did so, he with his laptop and Connor with his big quantum robot brain and that coin he wouldn’t quit playing with in the elevator. He had to admit, the coin tricks were nifty, but the sound they made was still annoying as shit. 

“Do you really gotta do that?” Gavin asked irritably. 

“I need to calibrate,” Connor explained.

“Can’t you do it some other time?”

His phone buzzed.

_You mean, when you’re on your knees for me again?_

The elevator door opened, and Gavin angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket, as his face went hot. Didn’t Connor say they wouldn’t talk about this at work? Did texts count as talking? Fuck, whatever. He needed to focus. If he thought about it too hard, he’d go ballistic.

“So what did you want to ask me?” Connor queried as they were seated across from each other at a long table.

“You looked at the security footage, right?” Gavin opened his laptop and booted it up.

“Yes, but there was nothing in it,” Connor reminded him. 

“Yeah. But I’m wondering, how the fuck could all this shit have gone down but with no footage of it? Yet we know they didn’t erase their memories.” Gavin dug around on his computer, looking for all the notes he’d made. “And you can look at it, right? You can see that it hasn’t been tampered with?”

“I reviewed the footage. It is seamless—no skips that I could see. However, I have not gone as far down as I could have,” Connor mused. 

“As far down?” Gavin looked up in confusion, seeing Connor’s face taut in concentration, his eyes closed.

“I have watched it like a human would. But I have not yet analyzed it the way an android would. I will do so now,” Connor declared.

“Uh, okay.” Gavin watched as literally nothing changed on Connor’s face, then after a minute he got bored and started going over his notes.

_“Aha,”_ Connor exclaimed, ten minutes later. He opened his eyes.

“What? You find something?” Gavin looked up.

“It _has_ been altered,” Connor said triumphantly. “It was just impossible to see from viewing it. But there are inconsistencies that are unmistakable.”

“Is there any way to restore it?”

“Unfortunately, no. Whatever’s been deleted is unrecoverable. However, the fact that it has been altered, and altered in such a specific way…” Connor looked uncomfortably at Gavin.

“What? Come on, Connor, spit it out.”

“Only an android could have done this type of edit. It has been cut and spliced together at thousands of intervals so as to appear completely seamless. A few missing frames would be noticeable to the human eye. Millions of pixels shifted around at a deeper level, on the other hand…” Connor pulled up the video and pointed out some faces. “Look at these people. They’re not real.”

“How can you tell?” Gavin asked, perplexed.

Connor gave Gavin a stern look. “I know a deep fake when I see one. Those people aren’t real.”

Gavin had no idea what the fuck Connor was talking about, but he decided to take his word for it. “You said an android had to have done it?”

Connor winced. “Yes.”

“So, our killer has an android accomplice,” Gavin mused. “Or our killer is an android, period.”

Connor looked like he wanted to protest this idea, but remained quiet.

“What? You thought all murderers were humans?” Gavin challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“There is an android _involved,”_ Connor replied tensely. “We only have evidence of involvement. And given your species’ reliance on mine, that does not narrow down our currently infinite list of suspects. I assume you confirmed that our only lead turned out to be identity theft?”

Gavin didn’t like how touchy Connor was getting, but he backed down. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with drama, if it turned out Connor really did have emotions and this shit was going to tangle them up. “Yes. I’ll tell Jack and Lucas to replace their shit before they open again,” he lied.

Connor blinked. “They already are open,” he pointed out. Then he opened his mouth, about to add to that statement, and Gavin held out a hand.

“I see those fucking robot gears in your head and I don’t like where they’re going, so don’t you fucking dare. That was _one time,”_ Gavin hissed. Well, twice, but Connor didn’t need to know that.

Connor smirked, clearly amused by his agitation. “Fair enough.”

“So what do we do about it?” Gavin prompted, latching onto any potential change of subject that would wipe that look off Connor’s face. “Like you said. Literally everyone and their mother has an android.”

“Yes,” Connor agreed, “but not every model can do this type of work.” He paused, getting that contemplative look again. “I assume you’ve done your research?”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “What research?” He sipped his coffee, which had gone mildly lukewarm.

“About androids. About me.”

Gavin flushed. He remembered all of the RK800 specs manuals, all of the time he’d spent wondering if Connor had a dick. “Well, if you must know, yes,” he sighed. “I read all your documentation. Marketing information, CyberLife emails, specs, ops manuals.”

Connor grinned. “So you know everything there is to know about me, then,” he said slyly. “Thorough.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin muttered, without ire.

“I’d expect nothing less. It’s what I would have done, if I were you,” Connor reassured him. “Why should you have trusted me without question? I understand the desire to question CyberLife’s motivations. I do it all the time.”

Gavin looked at him, and their eyes met. He swallowed. “Yeah. Fuck CyberLife. They don’t need our data. No offense, but your programming is sketchy as fuck. I mean, not all of it. Not everything. But—” He cut himself off, already cursing inwardly and hoping he hadn’t fucked up.

“So is yours,” Connor pointed out. “So you’d agree, then, that it’s better that I’m a deviant.”

“You’re not connected to their cloud anymore, right?”

“No.”

“Then yes. From an information security perspective, you’re better. Well, no worse than a dumbfuck human, anyway.” Gavin sipped his coffee.

“So then you agree that we’re equals,” Connor teased, and Gavin almost did a spit take.

Then he _laughed._

Holy shit. Connor was _funny,_ like honest-to-God funny. He didn’t appreciate being roasted, as a general rule, but they were alone this time, and Connor had seen him beg to get his ass beat. 

To his surprise, Connor started to laugh too, a sound Gavin was still getting used to. It was oddly stilted, but… there was something about it.

Then once the laughing fit was over, Gavin felt embarrassed immediately and coughed. “Yeah, so uh, I read all that shit,” he said quickly, “and you’re, uh, different. More autonomous. Cheap shit domestic models and ones that do manual labor don’t have the same specs and tools and shit you have. Even beyond the sketchy government CyberLife shit, you’re just… I dunno, more sophisticated? The shit you can do is so much more complex. That’s what I was fucking worried about,” he muttered to himself.

“Worried?” Connor’s head tilted.

Fuck.

“Okay, hear me out. Don’t make fun of me. I just… I wanted to know what you were capable of, so I looked it up. Because of all these news stories about deviants, I wanted to know what the worst case scenario would be if anything ever fucked you up.” Gavin attempted a wry smile. “Granted, you did do some pretty crazy shit, but you aren’t being controlled by some psycho killer. And you aren’t one yourself. Now, we got a motherfucker on our hands who might have some of your skill set, who is willing to kill—deactivate—whatever at least one other android and potentially human beings.”

“So what’s your conclusion about me?” Connor asked, still looking mildly amused.

“You? Not sure yet. Our killer, on the other hand…” Gavin rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “I don’t know. You’re the expert. Know any other models like you?”

“There were other Connors, but I believe CyberLife deactivated them. I didn’t see anyone like me at the CyberLife tower. Well…” Connor paused. “I saw one. But I killed him.”

Gavin burst out laughing. “You killed another Connor?!”

“To save Hank’s life,” Connor explained. “Killing another android wouldn’t have been my first choice, but he had Hank at gunpoint.”

“Fuck. I bet that was Anderson’s wet dream. Two of you plastic—I mean, two of you fighting. Like some mud wrestling shit,” Gavin exclaimed with mirth.

Connor blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Google—never mind, don’t look that up. Whatever. Anyone else?”

“I have a friend who is a custom model, given to a renowned Detroit artist who requires live-in senior care. My friend is a deviant now, and the artist has since hired a different android for that purpose.” He thought for a moment. “I wonder…”

“What’s going on?”

“Check to see if CyberLife still sells custom android models,” Connor suggested.

Gavin pulled up a browser window and went to CyberLife’s official website. “Yep. Looks like it, though it wants me to start with a subcategory of models. I don’t know if a truly 100% custom one is on here.” He looked at Connor. “You think this thing is a custom job?”

Connor’s eyes narrowed.

Shit. “Ugh, you know what I meant,” Gavin hastily corrected. “Do you think the killer’s accomplice could be a custom-built android with particular skills, there, fine,” he grumbled.

“Consider whether you’d refer to a human child as a ‘thing’ or a ‘job,’” Connor advised. “We’re not the detail work on your car, Gavin.”

Okay, when he put it like that, Gavin could maybe, kinda see where he was going with it.

“Fair enough. But you didn’t answer my question.” Gavin raised and lowered his eyebrows in expectation.

“It’s possible,” Connor conceded. “It’s also possible that the android is utterly standard and has just learned how to do video editing to an unnecessarily complex degree. But… it just seems too difficult. Why go to all this trouble?”

“Well, to hide a ‘murder,’ for starters,” Gavin said dryly, using air quotes around the word _murder._

Connor rolled his eyes. Then he appeared to think to himself for a moment.

“Gavin. Here’s what I think we should do,” he began.

Gavin did his best to look serious. “Shoot.”

“I want to take some time to research. I need to figure out where this particular skill could have been learned, either in a CyberLife program or a third-party app. Or, I suppose, autonomously, the way I learn things.” Connor looked uneasy at that idea.

“You mean like a human would? Picking it up from its… their environment?” Gavin studied Connor’s features. He’d seen an awful lot of emotion this morning, more than on previous occasions when they’d talked to each other, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Yes. An environment of crime, I imagine,” Connor mused. “In any case, while I try to narrow down what model it could be, you should see if there are any loose ends from the Eden Club. Anyone we haven’t spoken to yet. It’s possible they might have some information. Were there any greeters or bouncers at the club?”

Gavin cringed. “I, uh, I’ll have to find out.”

“Ask them if they saw any unusual-looking individuals that night, or anyone who went to the club with a partner. As you observed, we androids can’t open the cases ourselves.” Connor winked, and Gavin felt it hit him in the chest. “Let me know what you find.”

“Yeah. No problem. So are we, uh…” Gavin lost his train of thought as his brain populated with all the things he and Connor could do or be together.

“Collaborating?” Connor smirked. “I suppose so, yes. You’re behaving, and from a PR perspective, android activists will feel better knowing that I’m on the case. Captain Fowler and I are still working out what a full-time paid android police consultant’s job would be, but I imagine assisting wherever my expertise is needed is the end goal. As such, I am happy to do so.”

Connor got to his feet. “I have your number. Let’s check in later this week.”

“See ya,” Gavin replied, waving as Connor walked down the long hallway to the thick, heavy doors.

His phone buzzed.

_And if you’re very good, I have some ideas for Friday that I think you’ll like._

Gavin shivered and put his phone back in his pocket.

Gavin was not particularly interested in contacting either of the Eden Club bouncers whose names and information had been given to him by Jack and Lucas. One of the two bouncers had gotten on his ass about hitting on that jackoff the night he’d been there for what turned out to be his first hookup with RoboTwink. That had been awkward enough when it happened, and he was not particularly excited about a repeat.

However, it was for work, and screw what Fowler and Connor thought. Gavin did give a damn and he could be fucking professional. He could.

One of the two of them responded quickly, planning an interview for the following afternoon. The other didn’t respond, which was annoying but common. Gavin had a few tricks up his sleeve to get people to see him without requiring playing hardball, and people almost always took him up on them.

Gavin looked at his notes. So, one of these people had quit, and one had been let go. Quitting made sense; Gavin was pretty sure being an android sex club bouncer was not the most fun job. But why let go? What the fuck could possibly be a fireable offense at a place like that? Screwing the merchandise? Maybe they got an employee discount. 

Well, whatever it was, he’d soon find out.

Gavin pulled up the DPD database. 

_Watson, Sam. Date of birth: 5/19/1994. Current occupation: unemployed. Criminal record: Two counts of petty theft._

Meh. That was a common charge, especially among the older set, before the revival. Nothing to see there. So, this schmuck was the one who’d been let go. The dates for the petty theft convictions were too old, so he either hadn’t done it again, or the Eden Club guys had decided not to press charges.

Gavin got out his phone.

“Hello?” Jack’s chipper voice answered.

“Detective Reed. I got a question for you regarding the employee you let go shortly after the incident. The murder.” That word still didn’t make any goddamn sense to him, but it was all they had to go on, so fuck it.

“Of course, Detective. How can I be of assistance?” He sounded more upbeat than usual; perhaps business was booming, though that seemed counterintuitive. If people were so pro-android now, why the fuck were they paying to fuck them like they were sex dolls? Then again, it wasn’t like human sex trafficking had gone anywhere, either.

“Why did you fire Sam Watson? On what grounds?”

A pause. Jack was stalling, though Gavin was unsure why. “Do you really need to—”

“Yes, I need to know,” Gavin snapped, then took a deep breath to calm down. “Even if it’s awkward to talk about.”

Jack sighed. “We had reason to believe he was stealing from the company.”

Aha. Okay, that seemed more fireable than Gavin’s first thought. “Did you catch him?”

“Not me personally, but our security cameras did. He shut down one of the janitorial models and made off with it. We didn’t find out until we got customer complaints on social media that some of the floors were dirty. The rooms are tidied up by the androids who work in them, but the overall facility is maintained and cleaned by other units.” Jack paused. “To be honest, we sort of assumed that any potential thefts would be of the intimacy models. Custodial androids are so easy to come by nowadays, especially secondhand. They don’t command the prices that the WR400s and HR400s do. It slipped under the radar,” he admitted, sounding embarrassed.

Gavin was taking notes. “Did you press charges?”

“No. We were replacing that model anyway. It was getting buggy.”

Gavin stopped writing suddenly. Buggy? “What was wrong with it?”

“It stopped responding. It wouldn’t run its programs, and it started looking at us funny. We’d tell it to boot up, but it’d just stand in the back of the janitorial closet and stare at us. So I thought, well, why bother pressing charges? Sam probably saved us money on recycling fees. Detective Reed, when I tell you how much the city charges to recycle androids, you won’t believe your ears! But well, with the environment being like it is, I—”

“I imagine, yeah, must be a fortune,” Gavin cut in, in an attempt to humor Jack while retaking control of the conversation. Some of these people just did not know when to stop talking. “Do you still have the security footage? Any of it? Watson taking the android, or the android behaving strangely?”

“Oh, sure,” Jack chattered excitedly. “Do you have a secure email address or another way of receiving it? The files are quite large, though I suppose I could cut and paste as needed.”

“I’ll be over there shortly with a hard drive,” Gavin replied. “Leave it intact. Every detail counts.”

“I understand. Is there anything else you need, Detective?”

“Nope. Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodbye, Detective Reed,” Jack said, and hung up.

Fuck. Connor was gonna have something to say about this, that was certain, because “buggy,” combined with “we were replacing that model,” made a very, very strong case for deviancy.

Gavin sighed, then shut his laptop and went out to his car. First work, then lunch, then… he’d see.

Connor returned to his desk after his meeting with Gavin. It had been productive and almost pleasant, even—Reed was behaving, and while he still had impulses to make anti-android comments, he’d begun correcting himself, though Connor knew that he couldn’t take that to mean Reed had had a change of heart. He was likely just trying to prevent Connor from ending their sexual arrangement. Connor smirked. Reed was so weak, so easy to exploit. His plan was unfolding exactly the way he’d intended it to. He’d been able to rejoin the investigation, and Gavin was treating him with respect, and as reluctant as that respect was, it was certainly better than none at all, and more than Connor had expected.

Connor had some time to do research, and then he’d meet with Hank for lunch. He’d tried to encourage Hank to eat lunch with other coworkers, saying that he didn’t want to monopolize Hank’s attention, but Hank had informed him, efficiently and briefly, that he wasn’t interested in socializing with the others. Connor had decided not to press the issue.

He closed his eyes and accessed a cached copy of the CyberLife android model database. He’d had access to a full and completely up to date one before he deviated, but when he was done he could check the website, and it was entirely possible that the custom android’s manufacture predated the revolution anyhow.

He got a few hits for art models, some of which had been preloaded with photo and video editing software. There was a CyberLife android model that had been designed to record audio and video with its eyes and ears, edit it in real time, and upload it to social media, a very advanced version of mobile apps that had been developed two decades prior. However, these models still performed such editing at a higher level. Their techniques could be imitated by a human, and had of course been designed in the image of human artistic technique. The same was true of face generator apps—all designed for humans, by humans.

Perhaps what he really should be searching for was an android hacker. The thought made him uncomfortable.

The rest of his searching didn’t result in much; third-party apps for video production still only allowed for surface-level edits. None provided direct access to the lower-level used to capture the data—and why would they? What human would ever have the need or desire for such a thing? Even higher-level code was written by androids nowadays. And unlike the deep fakes generated by humans, these were so seamless that only he could spot them. They required a level of accuracy that no human was capable of.

Connor ran a search for developer androids and apps, but they turned out to be similar; there were some used in the manufacture of circuit boards and android biocomponents, but none of those models had the creativity or autonomy that this one would have, and there were no apps that would provide that autonomy. His own source code was a closely guarded CyberLife secret worth billions of dollars, and it required higher energy output than most androids. They simply didn’t have the hardware that he had.

It was safe to say, then, that the android was indeed custom, and was possibly even as sophisticated as he was.

Connor made a note to himself to ask Markus about his background, and got ready to meet Hank for lunch.

Gavin had a late lunch of a sub-par burger and fries—sue him, he was hungry—and returned to the station, plopping down in his chair at his desk. The hard drive was in his pants pocket, loaded with the security cam footage that the two of them had to go over. It’d be best if they did it together. He knew he’d need to look it over before his interview with Watson tomorrow afternoon; hopefully Connor would be free in the morning.

Gavin got out his phone and started typing a message. 

_Hey. I have some stuff I think we should go over together. You got a couple free hours at some point?_

_I can start right when you get in tomorrow. I have a conference call with Markus in the afternoon,_ Connor replied instantly.

_Perfect. I have to interview this guy tomorrow afternoon anyway. Same place we worked today work for you?_ Gavin wiped a sweaty hand on his pants. Why the fuck did texting Connor make him nervous?

_Yes. I have some progress to go over with you as well. See you tomorrow._

_Thanks._ Gavin closed his messaging app altogether, as though afraid that leaving it open would cause some kind of unforeseen trouble.

For the next few hours, he looked over his notes on deviancy and checked a few of the old case logs from before. Connor was the only deviant android he’d ever dealt with personally, and he was strikingly well-adjusted compared to the rest of them. But everything he’d written down lined up with the behavior of that custodial android that Watson had stolen.

Watson wasn’t the killer himself, was he? Because if so, he was a fucking stupid one. Video editing android accomplice or not, he should know better than to make off with one android and then come back with a buddy to kill the other. Why not take the goddamn body with him? Sure, sometimes he and the rest of the DPD would find bodies turning up in weird places, but it wasn’t as easy as finding them just fucking left there. However, Watson did, for now, seem to be their main suspect for whoever had opened the android’s case. Had he been working that night? Gavin would have to find out. He’d ask Jack and Lucas for a schedule and ask Watson himself.

And what about the cause of death? Thirium loss? With the thing thrashing around as someone siphoned it out? It didn’t seem possible.

Gavin went home. He’d let it roll around in the back of his mind, while he ate a sandwich and watched bad TV, and then he’d sleep on it. Tomorrow, he’d talk to Connor and see what he thought of the whole thing.

It was certainly getting interesting, that was for sure.


	14. Deviant Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin interviews an employee from the Eden Club. Connor has a meeting with Markus about the case.

Gavin grabbed his usual break room coffee and planned to go directly to the desks they’d been using in the archives. As he filled the travel mug he’d recently started bringing with him, he let his mind mull over the case. Then he grabbed a paper cup nearby without thinking, about to fill it for Connor, then realized what he was doing and flinched, immediately putting the cup back and bolting out of the break room, almost spilling his own mug onto his hand. What the fuck? Androids couldn’t drink coffee. Wouldn’t it fuck up Connor’s biocomponents? And he definitely didn’t want it to look like he was sucking up to him. That’d be too much. Sighing at his own idiocy, he went upstairs.

Connor was already there, armed with nothing but himself. He was, however, wearing a different outfit—his CyberLife jacket had been replaced by a navy blue cardigan and the dress shirt he wore under it was a pale blue, almost but not quite white. The tie was similar to his usual one but with a slightly different pattern that was barely noticeable. The ensemble had been paired with darker jeans and shoes that were brown leather, similar to the fancy ones he’d worn to see Gavin the night of their first hookup, but a little more subdued and more than likely, cheaper.

“Good morning, Gavin. Do you like my new outfit?” Connor greeted.

Gavin looked back up at Connor’s face, tearing his eyes away from where he had definitely been checking Connor out. He was smirking. Fuck. Well, he’d better just own it. “Yeah. I do. You look good, man.” Gavin felt his face grow hot at the confession. “Kinda looks a lot like your usual shit, though.”

“Well, I have plenty of time to deviate from it,” Connor countered, clearly amused by his own joke.

Gavin snorted. “Ha, ha. You ready?”

They sat down, side by side this time. Gavin had a sip of coffee. “I talked to the Eden Club guys. There were two bouncers there—both left. One quit, the other one was fired. Interviewing the one that got fired later today. Turns out he got caught stealing their janitor. Custodial android, that is.”

“Well, that’s unsettling,” Connor said.

“Don’t get unsettled yet, there’s more. They caught him on video and I have it all right here.” Gavin pulled the hard drive out of his pocket and plugged it into his laptop. “I want to watch it with you.”

“Sounds good.”

The feed was very long, and Gavin found himself doing a lot of fast forwarding, but eventually, they got to it: a heavyset dude with dark hair and a salt-and-pepper beard was approaching an android who was mopping the floor. Gavin recognized the scenery as the area right before the VIP section. The man looked like he was trying to get the android’s attention, but the android wasn’t looking up from its work. Then the man grabbed it by its shoulders and shook it. It flinched, its whole body going stiff.

Gavin felt Connor shift in his seat next to him.

The android tried to back away out of the man’s grip, but looked a little unsure. Then it carefully put the mop in its bucket and let itself be led through an employee-only door. 

“The video must continue in another file,” Gavin mused softly. “You okay if I switch to it?”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

Gavin frowned. Connor’s tone didn’t sound quite right. He dug around until he found two more clips. One was of them in the back storage room by the loading dock, the one where Connor had scanned the array of androids. Watson was stripping the android of its CyberLife uniform and tossing it nondescript black clothing to put on, along with a hat. The android was hesitant, but compliant. Then the last clip had the two of them leaving by a backdoor exit.

The video ended. Gavin looked at Connor, who averted his eyes. 

“He’s a deviant,” Connor said quietly.

“You sure?” Gavin asked. “I mean, it—he—certainly looks a bit off, but shouldn’t there be some kind of software analysis or—”

“He’s a fucking deviant,” Connor snapped. “I know a fucking deviant when I see one, Reed.”

What the fuck?

Gavin turned to face Connor, leaning back warily. “Dude. I’m not fucking arguing with you, I’m just saying, compared to past cases where deviants snapped and killed people, this dude seems different. Jack described him as ‘buggy.’ For all we know, that’s all he is.”

“So we’re only sentient if we commit felony assault or murder?” Connor retorted, glaring at him.

Gavin felt anger boiling in his gut, but he took a deep breath. He was _not_ getting suspended again. _Fuck_ that. “That’s not what I said, and you know it. I’ll take your fucking word for it, then. Don’t fucking snap at me, Connor.”

The anger in Connor’s eyes dissipated. “You’re… you’re right.” He sighed, looking down at the desk. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know where that came from.” There was tension in whatever passed for muscles in Connor’s face. 

Gavin sighed. “Just… don’t do it again, all right? You can’t get like that. We’re cops. We see fucked up shit all the time.”

Connor looked even more stressed, but nodded. “Right.”

Gavin swallowed, and reached over, patting Connor’s back in between his shoulder blades. Hopefully, this wouldn’t qualify as ‘unwanted touch.’

Connor looked at him, and seemed to calm down. Gavin rubbed the heel of his hand in circles on Connor’s back, then pulled away. The cardigan felt soft.

“Anyway, they canned this fucker over it,” Gavin began, attempting reassurance. “So it’s not like it went unnoticed.” He left out the part about Jack seeming like he didn’t give a fuck about the android itself. Fuck, he hoped Connor’s emotions—or whatever they were—weren’t becoming a liability. 

“What do you think will happen to him?” Connor asked glumly.

“The android? Legally? No idea. It’s a complete gray area. I guess technically he still ‘belongs’ to the Eden Club, but Jack didn’t seem too worried about getting him back, so he’s probably just free now,” Gavin mused.

“If he wanted a custodial android he could have obtained one through legitimate channels, easily. There are swap meets, online marketplaces, garage sales. There was no need to do what he did,” Connor said, with steeliness in his tone. “You wouldn’t traffick a human being at gunpoint when hiring a cleaning service would suffice.”

“So is this guy up to more than theft, or is he just stupid?” Gavin drained the rest of his coffee. “Like, too stupid to not shit where he sleeps?”

“I hope the android makes it to New Jericho,” Connor whispered.

“New Jericho?”

Connor winced, as though realizing he’d said too much. “Jericho was a hideout for deviant androids before the revolution. Somewhere safe so they wouldn’t be killed or forced back into slavery, and where they wouldn’t harm anyone or be harmed. There were secret codes only androids could follow to get there. However, it was evacuated and rigged to explode in response to an ambush by the U.S. military.” Connor took a deep breath. “It was my fault. But I helped some of them escape, and Markus led and protected them. I hope someday none of us will need protecting.”

Gavin was starting to feel like he was in over his head with the whole robot emotions thing, but he managed an appropriately somber expression. “And New Jericho is, well… new, I take it?”

“We still have new deviants seeking asylum every day. They need a place to go. However, nowadays, it’s legal and not in an abandoned ship. Androids can’t legally own property yet, but famous Detroit artist Carl Manfred has raised the funds to buy a space for us and has made provisions in his will if something were to happen to him before the land can be retitled in Markus’ name. I… I hope this custodial android was able to make it there,” Connor finished. He was still staring off into space. 

Gavin filed these details away in his head for later.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“So, uh. What was it you had to share with me?” Gavin asked.

“Only that I researched all the available CyberLife-compatible audio and video editing apps—both official and third-party—and did not find a single one that would an allow an android to do what this one has done,” Connor explained.

Fuck.

“So, he’s custom, then,” Gavin deduced. 

“He’d have to be. No one has the autonomy that this type of work would require. He’d have to be like me, and…” Connor gave a sheepish little smile. “I don’t mean to brag, but to have my intelligence and autonomy, an android needs to have a certain advanced type of hardware. It is extraordinarily expensive.”

Gavin blushed, as his brain snagged on the word _hardware_ and didn’t budge until Connor smirked. “Detective. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Wha—I wasn’t—whatever!” Gavin sputtered. “Yes. You’ve got fancy expensive hardware. Got it,” he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly.

Connor chuckled. “As I was saying, I’m expensive. Too rich for the blood of most people. Now, what line of work can make you rich enough to afford an android as sophisticated as one designed to work with the State Department?”

“Well, being a tech company CEO maybe,” Gavin began, “but my runner-up guess would be drugs.”

“I think the latter is more likely, given that we found traces of Red Ice at the scene of the crime. Thirium is also used in the manufacture of Red Ice, and the android we found had been drained of it. There’s a strong chance that whoever we’re looking for is in contact with the drug racket in Detroit,” Connor said.

“Then I guess we keep looking,” Gavin suggested.

Connor nodded. “Yeah. I have a lead to follow up with this afternoon. Let’s check back in tomorrow.” He stood, and Gavin stood with him, closing his laptop as they went to the elevator together.

They parted ways in the bullpen, and Gavin overheard Hank greeting Connor fondly. He felt a surprising little jolt of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, and ignored it.

After lunch, he got his stuff together and prepared for his interview with Sam Watson. He’d written up a list of questions and some thoughts on what to look for. Soon, he’d see for himself whether this guy was as stupid as he seemed. 

Gavin had made a quick call to Jack and Lucas for access to their scheduling and payroll software, just to be sure. If Watson was lying about not having been there, he could look for timecard punches. Barring that, Connor could always do the super in-depth shit he did last time.

He met Sam Watson at a precinct closer to his address. Given his readiness to appear, Watson either wanted to assert his innocence, or he had nothing to hide. Or perhaps he was anxious to get it over with. But given that he’d gotten away with the theft, he probably wasn’t worried about meeting with a detective.

The two of them sat down at a large table in the other precinct’s interrogation room, Gavin with his notebook and phone and Watson with just his own phone. He’d worn one of those smart watches that Gavin found gimmicky and pointless, but it had been confiscated. The guys at this place were a little too worried about Bond villains with gadgets coming in to be questioned.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Watson. My name is Gavin Reed, I’m a detective with the Detroit Police Department. There was an android murder and dismemberment at the Eden Club, 2215 CyberLife Plaza, where you were previously employed. We are investigating the case and I need to ask you some questions.” Gavin’s elbows were on the table, the notepad close by. Normally it was better to have a second person taking notes, but Connor had other obligations. A witness from this precinct was in the observation room behind the two-way mirror.

“Okay,” Watson replied. He was a heavyset man, taller than Gavin but not by much, balding with a salt-and-pepper beard. Like Smith, he was free of Red Ice tremors.

“Were you working the night of the murder?”

“No. Called out sick,” Watson said flatly.

Gavin examined his phone. “I was told you were on the schedule. The Eden Club’s payroll software also lists that you punched in and out that night. Were you committing timecard fraud, Mr. Watson?”

Watson sighed. “All right. Fine. Yes, I was there that night. But I didn’t do it, whatever it was. You said a murder? You can’t murder an android. It’s not alive.”

“We are referring to it as a murder pending civil rights legislation,” Gavin explained.

“Bunch of bullshit, if you ask me. I feel sorry for you,” Watson scoffed.

Gavin rolled his eyes internally. “Did you see anyone suspicious that night?”

“Suspicious? Everyone who comes to a place like that is suspicious. No. Just your usual crowd of low-lifes who can’t get pussy and chicks who’d rather have a plastic dildo than a real man,” Watson sulked.

“Did anyone come to the club with a partner that night?” Gavin made a small note.

“No.”

Then something occurred to Gavin, and he mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

“Has anyone ever asked you for help troubleshooting the cases?”

“Oh, sure,” Watson said. “Matter of fact, that night one of ’em wasn’t working. Handsome guy came to get me, said he couldn’t get it open, that the fingerprint scanner wasn’t working. Kept pressing his hand to it and nothing. So I just overrode it with my manager’s key and let him have fun. Though I dunno why he came to us. He was good looking enough that he could get action anywhere.”

_Oh._

“I see. Did you see this gentleman again at all?” Gavin tried to make only shorthand notes, because so far, Watson had no idea how important his testimony was, and Gavin aimed to keep it that way.

“Nope. Must have bought a bunch of sessions, because the android wasn’t there when I left and the door to the room was still locked with the Do Not Disturb light on.” At Gavin’s look, he added, “We’re there in shifts, and when it’s over we do a quick check and then leave. We’re not to disturb our clients in their rooms except in cases of emergency.”

“So it’s possible for a client to rent an android for as long as they please, provided they have the funds and want to?” Gavin asked, trying not to think of the implications.

“We cap it at twenty-four hours. Bots need a chance to recharge. Plus not to judge or anything but that is a really, _really_ long time to be with a sexbot,” Watson said.

“Do you recall any details of what this person looked like?” Gavin asked. Fuck, they might finally be on to something here.

“Yeah. Tall, maybe about six feet or so. Looked strong and capable, not a big ox or anything but no twink, either. Age… hmm, late twenties? Hard to say. He looked ageless. Maybe he had work done, I dunno. Blue eyes, blond hair. Wearing a black jacket, like a thin one, probably a little too thin given the weather. Had kind of an odd way of speaking? A little more polite than most people who go to the club. Fuckin’ riffraff, most of ’em. Pardon my language.”

“I see.” Gavin made more shorthand notes. “Anything else? Happen to see the name on his card?”

“No, it was one of those Visa giftcard things. Fuck, I forgot to check his ID,” Watson groaned. “Whatever, I’m out of there anyway, what difference does it make now.”

Gavin decided to segue into his next line of inquiry. “Speaking of that. Why did you take the custodial android, Mr. Watson? Surely you knew about the security cameras?”

Watson winced. “Yeah. But that thing was a piece of shit anyway. I knew they weren’t gonna miss it.”

“If it was a piece of shit, then why did you take it?” Gavin asked, mildly puzzled.

“I’m a reseller. That’s my second job. Figured rather than let these guys recycle it—fuckin’ hippies—I’d make a little money out of it. But the damn thing wouldn’t listen to me. I had to be a little rough with it, which I didn’t wanna do, ’cause I didn’t wanna damage it, less valuable that way. Of course, this city is paved with broken biocomponents…” Watson trailed off, clearing his throat in a very loud and unpleasant manner that suggested that he had been a lifelong smoker. “Had to call in the guy at the shop who’s used to the shitty, buggy ones. ’Cause see, I tried every deactivation code I could think of and none of ’em fuckin’ _worked,”_ Watson griped. “But this guy, he knows how to handle ’em. He’s got some kinda phone app that settles ’em down or something… Anyway, what else did you wanna know, Detective Reed?”

Fuck.

Gavin tried not to look like he was scribbling furiously. Thank fuck that dude was in the observation room—he hoped the audio was being recorded. It should be. He’d see that weaselly little newb written up if it wasn’t. “Do you have the name of this person you sold the android to?”

“He goes by Hunter. No idea if that’s his real name or not. I’ll be honest, I don’t ask questions if a man’s handing me a thousand bucks in cash for a broken-ass piece of shit.”

“What’s he look like?”

“No idea. Always wears a balaclava when we meet, says he’s cold or allergic to the sun or whatever. White guy, I can say that much. Short. Shorter than you.” Watson paused, then opened his mouth again. “Don’t go getting any ideas, though. I don’t wanna lose profits if everyone spams this guy with requests.”

“I’m doing well,” Gavin reassured him. “Police work takes up enough time as it is. Is there anywhere you take the non-buggy ones?”

Watson looked hesitant. “Yeah, but they ain’t doing anything illegal, okay?”

“Of course not. I just know a friend whose parents passed away. They have a bunch of androids to get rid of and want to make a little money to pay for the funeral,” Gavin lied. 

“Ah, gotcha. Well, it’s Dale’s Android Pick-N-Pull. Uh, condolences to your friend,” Watson said awkwardly.

“Thank you,” Gavin replied, making one more note. “And just one more question. We’re doing a survey for the city. Have you ever used Red Ice, or known anyone who does?”

“Nope. Fuck that. Shit’s toxic. I had a buddy in college who started on the stuff, but I ghosted him. Wouldn’t stop asking me for money.”

“Thank you, Mr. Watson. I appreciate your help today,” Gavin said, and they stood.

“Oh, just one thing,” Watson said. “You sure they’re not pressing charges? The Eden Club guys?”

“I confirmed it. They say you saved them money on recycling fees,” Gavin added dryly.

“Hey, that’s me, always willing to help. Anyway. You have a good day, sir.” Watson waved and departed.

Gavin darted into the observation room. “You get the audio of that?” he asked quickly.

“Right here,” the young man replied, gesturing to a console.

“Greed@DPD.gov,” Gavin said. “As soon as you can. Need to show it to my… uh, colleague,” he said, trying not to sound like he’d almost just said _partner._

“Just sent it. Anything else you need from me, Detective Reed?” he asked.

“Nope. Good job, kid. Have a good rest of your day.”

Gavin’s phone buzzed as he walked out of their precinct and got to his car. Yup, there was the email.

Holy shit, though. That motherfucker had _no_ idea what he just gave up.

Connor found a quiet location for his conference with Markus in a small meeting room that wasn’t being utilized. Markus was in Washington doing important legislative work and Connor didn’t like to take time away from it. Yet he knew Markus would want to help, and he also knew that Markus might well be the only person who could answer this question.

Connor sat down at the small round table, placing his elbows on it, his forearms laid out on the table in front of him. He closed his eyes and accessed the call. “Hello, Markus.”

“Hey, Connor. It’s good to hear your voice again. You said you have a question for me?”

Connor smiled fondly. “It’s good to hear from you, too. Yeah. So, you remember the case that Detective Reed and I were working on? The one about the dismembered android I suspected was a deviant?”

“Yeah, I remember. Were you ever able to confirm that? And are you working with Detective Reed again?”

“No,” Connor admitted. “The android was dead when I found him. There’s no way to confirm it. However, the Detective and I are working together again. I… have found a way to incentivize good behavior and Detective Reed has responded well to it.” He smiled wickedly at the empty room, eyes still closed.

“That’s great to hear. You’re an excellent negotiator. I’m sure with the two of you working on the case, it’ll be solved in no time.” Markus sounded so proud and pleased. “I’m so glad he’s finally treating you better. … He _is_ treating you better, right?”

“Yes. We are making good progress. I even got him to laugh at one of my jokes,” Connor added proudly.

“That’s because you’re funny, Connor.” Markus chuckled.

Connor smiled. “So after reviewing evidence, we’ve learned that the security camera video files have been tampered with, in ways no human is capable of replicating—or at least, not without hours and hours of effort. I did some research and could not find any programs, apps or androids capable of it. Detective Reed and I have concluded that the android who tampered with the video is a custom model. You are also a custom model. I was wondering… do you know how Carl got you? What did the process look like? We were unable to find anything on the CyberLife website about ordering androids with our level of sophistication, autonomy and hardware requirements.”

“Hmm.” Markus paused. “I was a gift to Carl directly from Elijah Kamski.”

“And I was commissioned by the State Department,” Connor added. “This person has to have money to be able to afford someone like us, and it looks like Red Ice is involved, so it might be drug money.”

“Carl and Mr. Kamski are friends,” Markus explained. “I’ve met him a few times. He’s very reclusive. I doubt he has many other friends.”

“Do you think he’d take a commission for a custom android?” Connor wondered.

“Maybe. You could ask him. You and Lieutenant Anderson met him once before, right?”

“Yes. He’s very cryptic, though. And not very helpful. However…” Connor paused, rotating his palms upward, then back downward again on the table. “I don’t know who else would know. At the very least, he may know who at CyberLife could be filling these orders. Have you ever encountered any other custom androids like us?”

“No,” Markus said, as though he was realizing it for the first time. Perhaps he was. “No, I haven’t. In that case, it sounds like your plan is clear.”

Connor made a note on his HUD. “I think so. Thank you so much, Markus. I hope to have news for you soon.”

“No problem. Tell Lieutenant Anderson I said hi.”

“Will do. Talk to you later.” Connor ended the call.

So, the next morning, he’d need to go over this with Gavin, then, as well as anything Reed had found out.

Connor spent a little more time doing research about Elijah Kamski, then went to meet Hank at his desk so they could commute home together.

“Hey, Connor. Have a good day?” Hank attempted a smile. They were more and more genuine every day, and Connor was proud.

“I did. Did you have a good day?” Connor watched Hank gather his things and shut down his workstation.

“Eh. Good enough. I’m over it. Right now I’m looking forward to the leftover pizza in the fridge at home.” Hank put on his jacket. “They ever gonna come out with a mod so you can eat?”

“I don’t need to eat, Hank.”

“But you’re missing out, man. Pesci’s does the best pizza in Detroit. Well, if anyone ever makes it happen, I’ll put together a menu for you,” Hank promised, as they went out to his car. 

“I’d like that, Hank.”

Once Gavin had written up his notes on the Watson interview, he went home.

What a crazy week. And somehow, it was only fucking Tuesday. He was proud, though—they were making great progress. _Finally._

He stopped to pick up more Chinese takeout and headed home, ready to relax after everything that had gotten done that day.

As he sat down in front of the TV, his mind wandered to recalling how Connor had reacted on Monday. He wasn’t gonna lie, seeing Connor so rattled by that video was concerning. Connor was supposed to be a fucking machine, yet he’d snapped at Gavin, and he’d looked nervous and stressed. Then Gavin remembered the LED color codes: blue for “all good,” yellow for thinking, red for stressed. Had Connor’s LED been red? He couldn’t remember. Connor had been sitting to his right, and he wasn’t able to see the LED, only the look on his face. He’d have to keep an eye out for it in the future, though he hoped Connor wouldn’t be stressed enough for it to turn red. 

Then Gavin remembered Connor’s new clothes, and the room grew a little too warm. But attraction aside, at this point, Gavin had to concede that either machines had feelings, or Connor was no ordinary machine. There was no strategic value to getting upset at evidence on the job. Connor had no reason whatsoever to fake it, and thus, Gavin concluded that it had to have been genuine. Unlike a human, who simply would be fired for repeated performance issues, Connor had more at stake if he were to become nonfunctional.

The thought made Gavin uncomfortable.

He turned on the TV. Jeopardy reruns, apparently, with the android host they’d gotten when they figured out that no one could replace Alex Trebek.

He was then hit with an urge to text Connor. What the fuck? Why? It wasn’t like they were dating, or friends, or anywhere even remotely close to either of those categories. Yet he felt the pull anyway, and had his phone in hand and everything.

_You doing okay after yesterday?_ He had his finger hovering over the send icon. A few seconds went by. Then he deleted it and tossed his phone on the couch cushion next to him, sighing. Whatever. He’d see Connor tomorrow. He could find out then.

Gavin ate dinner, watched more shitty TV, and turned in for the night.


	15. Dale’s Android Pick-N-Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Connor do some investigative work in the field.
> 
> Quick note: there is some angst in this chapter, more than in previous ones, so take care.

Gavin decided to get to work earlier than usual; he was excited to share what he had learned with Connor. It was pivotal; he could feel it. However, he was also a bit apprehensive—what if future information made Connor react emotionally?

_Whatever. He’s a fucking cop. If he can’t handle it, then he shouldn’t be here._

He hit the break room for coffee and then headed upstairs to their little corner in the archives. It had been left alone recently, possibly due to the others not wanting to interact with Connor, who was already there, sitting at the desk by himself. Even though Gavin knew Connor had no need of notepads or laptops or anything like that because he could do all this shit in his fucking head, it still came as a surprise to see him sitting there, doing what appeared to be nothing.

“Good morning, Gavin,” Connor greeted brightly. “Who’s the second coffee for?” He winked.

Gavin flinched. He looked down and saw that lo and behold, he had indeed brought two cups up with him, despite the inconvenience of having to clench his laptop under his arm to accommodate them. Face burning, he set one of them on the table so he could remove his laptop from the uncomfortable grip he had on it and set it on the table. “Nobody, shut up, they’re both for me,” he grumbled. “I’m tired.”

“You must be. Too tired to remember that I can’t actually drink coffee. But I’m flattered that you thought of me,” Connor added in a low, almost sultry voice.

Gavin shivered. “Dude, you can’t talk in that voice at work,” he insisted, in as low a voice as he could manage without whispering.

His phone buzzed. _Right. I forgot how easy you are._ Gavin looked up from his phone and glared at Connor, who smiled innocently with a slight eyebrow raise and a shrug. Gavin scowled.

“How are you?” Connor asked. “What have you found since our last meeting?”

Gavin tried to remind himself that Connor meant their meeting here, yesterday, and not the previous Friday when they had been naked in his bed. He waited a little longer than was ideal before he replied. “A lot. That fucker I interviewed has no idea how much.”

He described the finer points to Connor, who appeared to be mentally taking notes. “Troubleshooting the cases,” he murmured. “Great catch, Gavin. Well done. I guess it’s safe to assume this android can pass for human, too.”

“Mostly. Watson still picked up on a few things that stood out—namely looking ‘ageless,’ as he put it, too attractive, too polite. But clearly not the plastic hand touching the scanner,” Gavin added, puzzled.

“He could have been wearing CyberLife gloves,” Connor remarked.

“Gloves?”

“Flesh-toned ones in every skin color that androids are offered in, plus digital custom ones that can change colors, for the androids that allow for such customization. They’re for the people who want their android to seem so human that they’re completely indistinguishable. So nobody has to suffer the eyesore of an android hand,” Connor explained with a disapproving tone. “They transmit signals and everything. Of course, if the android is wearing short sleeves, you can see that they’re wearing gloves, but in the middle of winter, this one wouldn’t be.”

Okay, Gavin was starting to distrust CyberLife even more than he already did. Did people really want an illusion that desperately? Was CyberLife simply supplying a demand, or were they creating it? “That’s fucking bizarre,” he said.

“I’m glad you agree,” Connor replied. “The skin overlay is an unnecessary feature in that it doesn’t aid in our functioning, but I understand why it exists. But the gloves are the only explanation I can think of for why Mr. Watson wouldn’t notice gray android hands. He never saw them to begin with.”

“So bizarre. Yeah. It sounds like there’s a good chance that this android is the custom one we’re looking for. Pity you can’t probe _his_ memory,” Gavin griped, imagining how much easier it would be if Connor could just lock arms and do his thing with human witnesses. “Then again, that would probably suck for the other party.”

“The threat of me doing so was enough to get the Ortiz android to talk, if you recall,” Connor reminded him.

“Shit, you’re right. Okay, so, this kid at the other precinct got the audio for me from the observation room. I can either send it to you or play it here on my laptop,” Gavin suggested.

“I can record it myself if you play it. It’s possible that you’ll think of new developments while listening to it again.”

Gavin opened the file and hit play. 

“What a charming gentleman,” Connor said dryly, no doubt in response to Watson’s remarks about the Eden Club clientele. Then he went stiff when Watson brought up the android.

_“…the guy at the shop who’s used to the shitty, buggy ones… tried every deactivation code I could think of and none of ’em fuckin’ worked, but this guy, he knows how to handle ’em. He’s got some kinda phone app that settles ’em down or something… I don’t ask questions if a man’s handing me a thousand bucks in cash for a broken-ass piece of shit…”_

Gavin looked worriedly over at Connor and had the blind instinct to shut the recording off, but he did not. He watched Connor’s face carefully.

“An app on his phone,” Connor repeated softly. “Knows how to handle us.” His fingers curled and tightened where they lay on the table.

“Yeah, what a jerkoff,” Gavin cut in, trying to lighten the mood. Fuck, he had no idea what to say, and no idea whether Connor was angry or just offended. He couldn’t decide whether Connor’s anger in the bedroom was more or less scary than the clear tension in his body right now.

The recording ended. Connor was silent.

“So, uh, what do you think?” Gavin asked nervously.

“I’m glad you questioned him and I didn’t,” Connor began, tensely, after a long pause. “However, it sounds like we have more information, and hopefully more leads. I spoke with Markus and it turns out he’s the only other custom android he knows, and he was a gift from Elijah Kamski to a friend.” Connor looked at Gavin. “We may need to pay him a visit.”

“Ugh,” Gavin groaned out loud. “Fuck that. First I’m gonna go to this shop and see if any of them know a Hunter. I’m bringing you with me. You’re a walking video camera.”

Connor looked at him uncomfortably.

“I mean, that’s not _all_ you are,” Gavin added hastily. “Fuck it. You know what I mean. You’re in, right? We’re following this case wherever it goes, right?”

Connor hesitated, then nodded. “Right.” He didn’t sound too sure of himself, but he was probably just pissed at Watson’s remarks. To be honest, Gavin thought the guy was a dick, too.

“Well, you can always go in a disguise like you did for the Smith interview,” Gavin suggested. “If you’re worried about them coming after you and—” He cut himself off abruptly when he saw Connor’s expression. This was clearly no time for dark humor. “Fuck it. Let’s both wear different shit. I know we don’t dress like cops to begin with but let’s be real subtle about it. How about tomorrow?” Gavin checked his phone. “They open at ten. Sometime between ten and noon? Then we go to lunch. I mean, _I_ go to lunch. I dunno if you go on lunch—” _fuck, fuck, fuck, shut up, Reed, shut up—_

“I sit with Hank as he eats lunch, but I’ll tell him I won’t be there because I’ll be on a case. The address of the shop is too far away to make it back to any of the restaurants the Lieutenant frequents,” Connor replied.

“Cool, there’s an all day breakfast place,” Gavin said as he scrolled through a list on his phone, imagining a giant plate of corned beef hash and pancakes. “Yeah. Let’s do that. You down?” He glanced at Connor, searching his face for signs of tension. Connor seemed a little more normal now, and of course, as handsome as ever. Perfect, even. It was so unfair—

“Yes, let’s go together. It will be more productive, you’re right. I will record and analyze and you can do the talking. Most of it.” There was a playful look in Connor’s deep, brown eyes.

“Sweet. We got a plan.” Gavin turned to give Connor a fist bump before stopping in midair, suddenly embarrassed at Connor’s puzzled expression.

Then Connor’s LED went yellow, and he bumped back, with a smile that was half triumph, half delight.

What a plastic prick.

“I have to work with Hank for the rest of the day, but let me know whatever else you find,” Connor said, as he stood.

“Can do,” Gavin agreed, rising and closing his laptop, grabbing one of the coffees and shotgunning it before chucking the empty cup across the room into a trash can with the same stance and poise as a basketball player at the free-throw line.

“Oh, and Detective? I mean, Gavin?”

Gavin turned and looked back at Connor.

“Thank you for being more respectful,” Connor said earnestly.

Gavin felt heat bloom in his cheeks, as they stared into each other’s eyes for a little too long. “I… you’re welcome,” he managed awkwardly. “Prick.”

Connor snorted, and then smiled. “Later.”

“See ya.”

Connor walked down the hall and vanished, and Gavin took his laptop and second coffee and went back to the bullpen.

Gavin sat down at his desk and checked his email. The other bouncer had gotten back to him, finally, and he hadn’t even had to play hardball, so things were good indeed. The interview date was set for next Wednesday. Sooner would have been nice, but whatever. They were busy tomorrow, and Friday… Gavin shivered.

After more research and, admittedly, a little bit of staring into space and reading the news, Gavin went to get his lunch out of the break room fridge. He’d brought the rest of the Chinese food from last night and was sitting down at a table when Tina came in.

“Hey, Gav! What’s up?” She came over to greet him excitedly, a bottle of protein shake in her hand. “How’s the case? How’s, y’know…?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Tina!” he hissed. “For fuck’s sake, keep it down. I’m fine. The case is fine. Connor is—”

“— _very_ fine,” Tina gleefully finished for him, and Gavin prepared to give her the type of playful shove that possibly could look hostile on DPD security cameras, or really, in any workplace whatsoever, then thought better of it. “Can you just give it a rest with that? You and your gay porn brain,” he muttered.

“Takes one to know one, dipshit.” She chuckled. “I call ’em like I see ’em, you know that. Just, y’know, keep me in mind when you’re having him connect wirelessly to a printing kiosk to make your wedding invitations. Sometime in the future when that’s legal.”

Gavin gave her an ugly scowl. “That doesn’t even merit a response.”

“And yet.” She sat down at his table. “Fowler wants to talk to you. He’s looking for updates on the case. For once, he might actually be in a good mood, so if you’re nice, maybe he’ll stay that way.” She opened her protein shake and sipped it. “Wow. This… this does not taste good.”

“They never do,” Gavin agreed. “I’ll talk to him when my lunch break’s over. Thanks for the heads up. How have you been?”

“Eh, same as always. Kicking ass at work, trying to make it work at home. I love my guy, but he’s been bringing me down lately. Hopefully he’ll feel better soon. You seem way better, so either you’re getting laid again, or you’ve finally figured out how to pass kindergarten.” She sized him up. “Or both?”

Gavin’s face reddened slightly. “Very funny.”

“Anyway, I just came to get this,” she said, shaking the bottle of protein shake. “Take care, Gav. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gavin asked, winking at her.

He finished his lunch, then went up to see Fowler.

“Welcome back, Reed,” Fowler greeted him, with only a little bit of tension. Tina was right, he did seem to be in a good mood. “Seeing as how no one’s come to me with a behavioral complaint about you so far this week, I’m going to assume the suspension accomplished what it was supposed to. Let’s not have a repeat of it.”

“Understood,” Gavin replied, tempted to be snarky about it but resisting the urge.

“I hear you and Connor are working together on the android case,” Fowler continued, with a note of mild surprise. He leaned back in his chair. “Never expected that, but fuck it, I’ll take it, the public’s chomping at the bit for android rights shit right now and it’ll boost our image if we solve it. How’s it coming along?”

“Good, actually. We’re going out into the field tomorrow for a while. Had an interview that was really productive, so yeah.”

Fowler studied him. “Well. I’ve got no idea how and why you’re so well-behaved but it’s about damn time. Glad to see you’ve shaped up.”

Gavin resisted the urge to glare at him defiantly.

“Anything you’d like to add?”

“Not that I can think of,” Gavin said, after a moment’s pause.

“You being nicer to Connor?” Fowler asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yes. Why, what’d he say about me?” Gavin blurted out.

“Nothing, Reed, relax, just asking. Well, keep me updated with your progress.”

“Will do, Cap. See ya.”

Gavin went back to his desk. Funny, people seemed to be feeling better nowadays. Maybe they’d finally learned to lighten the fuck up.

“Reed!”

Gavin turned. It was Hank. He gave him an ugly look. “What?”

“You and me. I got something to say to you.” Hank nodded his head in the general direction of the break room.

Gavin sighed and got to his feet, following Hank. Man, he always forgot how fucking huge Anderson was. Probably because he spent so much time stewing at his desk in misery, though that had changed recently, too.

“Listen,” Hank began, in a tone of voice that told Gavin that he was not fucking around. “I don’t know what that case is about, what you two are working on together. But it matters to Connor, enough that he’s willing to put up with your ass in order to work on it. So this can be either a reminder or a warning, depending on how you plan on behaving.”

Gavin gave Hank an ugly look, but let him continue.

“Don’t mess with him again. I’m serious. For whatever reason, the case is worth it to him to risk his safety with you. _He_ seems to believe you’re capable of improvement. I say you can’t teach new tricks to a dog that’s an asshole. Fuck knows I wouldn’t wanna deal with you, but he’s a better person than I am. But if I see or hear anything from him about more abuse from you, as God is my witness I will pull every string I have to get you fired. Got it?”

Gavin swallowed, then covered it up with bravado. “Christ. You and everyone else are all saying the same shit. Connor got you all whipped or something? And yes, I heard you. I haven’t fuckin’ done anything to him since. I’m not stupid. Being suspended sucks. Not that you’d know, since you never see any consequences for stinking up the place with your—”

“Hello, Gavin. Hello, Lieutenant,” a voice called from behind Hank.

Hank’s angry expression dissolved instantly at the sound of Connor’s voice. “Hey. Was just reminding Reed to behave.”

Gavin glared at Hank, but the look faltered when Connor appeared beside him. They locked eyes for a moment, then Connor turned to Hank. “You don’t need to worry. We’ve worked out a solution. Haven’t we, Gavin?”

Gavin fought the desire he was feeling as hard as he could. The absolute last thing in the entire goddamn universe he needed was for Hank to find out about their little arrangement. “I can fuckin’ behave,” he muttered, after discarding the few comebacks he came up with and would normally have said, had he not made a deal with Connor prohibiting such commentary.

Hank snorted. “I’ll believe it when it lasts more than three days. But don’t forget what I said. I’ve still got my eye on you, Reed.”

“Fine. Watch me, then,” Gavin retorted.

Hank left, and Connor followed, though not before giving Gavin a smirk when Hank’s back was turned.

Gavin spent the rest of the afternoon planning out their move tomorrow morning. He and Connor would park far away and bus in, in clothes they weren’t likely to wear any other day, and with Connor’s LED covered or removed. Gavin would ask questions, pretending to get quotes for androids to potentially sell, and would bring up bizarre edge cases to see if he could get more information on “Hunter.” Connor would record everything they saw, and probably just keep his mouth shut. They’d try not to be there for long, though—for one, it’d be too suspicious, and two, Gavin was genuinely unsure what to expect from either the people at the shop or Connor’s new emotional neuroses, so the less time spent risk-taking, the better. Then, hopefully, they’d come back to the precinct with more to work with.

Then he hit the gym, grabbed a quick dinner out, and went home.

With his muscles pleasantly tight and achy, Gavin took a second shower when he got home, just because it felt good. As he was getting ready for bed, he remembered those nudes Connor had sent him, and pulled them up on his tablet. Seeing the white dress shirt slipping elegantly down Connor’s broad, pale shoulders, combined with a bulge in his black boxer briefs that Gavin knew to be seriously next-level, made him ignore the fact that he was nice and clean and instead get in bed and jerk himself off to Connor’s photos. He flipped back and forth between the shirt one and the cock shot Connor had sent until he blew his load all over his tablet in tribute. He snapped a picture of the cum-stained tablet with his phone, Connor’s nudes still open and visible, and texted it to him.

_That looked like fun. Save the rest for Friday for me,_ was the instantaneous response.

_Fuck,_ that was hot. _You got it_ , he replied. Then he decided to hell with it. _You gonna be okay tomorrow?_

_I’m fine. It’ll be fine._

Gavin wasn’t sure he believed Connor, but he also didn’t want to insult him, either. Harping on this subject could do so, easily.

Then he got another text: a selfie of Connor in an A shirt, lying down on a couch with the head of a Saint Bernard in his lap. He had one hand on the dog, fingers combing through its fur. _Sumo likes to say goodnight to me sometimes before he goes to sleep with Hank._ Connor’s hair was slightly ruffled, and he was gazing fondly down at the dog, whose name was apparently Sumo. It was a rather intimate photo. Gavin suddenly felt a bit odd and almost guilty that he hadn’t casually texted Connor before now.

_You look amazing,_ Gavin replied before he could talk himself out of it. He took an overhead selfie lying in bed, shirtless, with his hair still damp from the shower. _Just got back from the gym._

_You’re so vain,_ was the response, with a smirk emoji.

_Takes one to know one. I see you in the bathroom at work, prettyboy. You’re only in there to fix your tie._

_And it drives you crazy, doesn’t it?_

Gavin shivered. _Fuck yeah it does._ He paused, then tapped _I’m looking forward to seeing you._

_Build up a nice load for me. I intend to swallow it._

Gavin went hot all over.

_Sumo has departed. I am going into standby. Good night, Gavin._

_Night, Connor._

Gavin got cleaned up and went to bed.

The next morning was uneventful, apart from Gavin deciding to mix it up and get an Americano instead of drip. Mainly, he was preoccupied—as always, ugh—with thoughts of Connor. He’d seen him at his desk with Hank, and Gavin’s thoughts had immediately shifted to the selfie Connor took the night before. How on earth did he get that camera angle? Did he borrow Hank’s phone and then delete the photo or some shit?

Gavin went through some emails and then at 9:45, Connor showed up at his desk with two brown paper shopping bags in tow. “Shall we get changed so we can go on our errand, Gavin?”

Fuck, that’s right, they were supposed to be wearing different shit. Gavin groaned. “Fuck, I forgot my clothes.”

Connor handed Gavin one of the bags. “I didn’t. These should be your size. Let’s try them on,” he suggested, beckoning Gavin to the restroom.

He followed Connor and they each claimed a stall. Gavin tried not to think about the last time Connor had changed in the restroom near him. Except this time, he knew what Connor looked like naked, so he had _that_ visual to contend with, on top of an already awkward situation.

“Boy, these are ugly,” Gavin exclaimed with a whistle as he pulled an exceedingly frumpy gray hoodie out of the bag. He recognized it immediately as the super cheap-shit brand he used to wear in college and burn through like crazy. Underneath it was a pair of beat-up jeans and a t-shirt that looked like it was thirty years old. “If this wasn’t for the job, there’s no way in hell I’d be caught dead in this shit.”

“They’re supposed to look that way,” Connor reminded him. “We’re supposed to look like we belong at an android scavenging shop. We can’t look too well-off or stylish. So your favorite leather jacket will have to remain at the DPD or in your car.”

“I’ll leave it here. No way I’m leaving that shit unattended in my car. Something might happen to it,” Gavin said worriedly. He sniffed the clothes, but they were clean, so he shrugged and put them on. “Where’d you get these?”

“Goodwill. No one even noticed my LED.”

Gavin emerged from his stall in the borrowed clothes to see Connor carefully plucking it out of his temple and handing it to Gavin. “Can you put this in your jacket pocket? I don’t want it to get lost.”

Gavin held out a hand, and Connor dropped it into his palm. A wordless glance of thanks passed between them. He opened a secret zipper pocket inside the lining of the jacket and put the LED inside, then zipped it shut.

Connor had chosen cargo shorts and a fleece pullover for himself, in a very unflattering shade that was some amalgamation of navy and hunter green. His face was still too pretty, but that was a fact of life.

“Won’t the shorts be suspicious?” Gavin asked.

“There are plenty of humans who wear them in sub-freezing temperatures,” Connor replied, as he intentionally mussed his hair in the mirror. “I have no idea how they don’t get cold.”

“That’s a fair point.”

They left the leather jacket at Gavin’s desk and took their original clothes, now in the paper bags, out to Gavin’s car and put them in the trunk. Gavin drove them out closer to the shop.

“Have you come up with a list of questions to ask?” Connor queried as they made their way, this time with the radio off. 

“I think so, yeah. But if you think of anything, feel free to ask about it or text me, if you’re worried about blowing your human cover or whatever.”

“Sounds good.” Connor was looking out the passenger-side window, taking in the scenery, Gavin supposed. Not that there was much to take in, in this part of town. There were too many dilapidated buildings. Gavin supposed it made sense for a store like this to be located out in East Industrial Buttfuck.

Gavin managed to find a parking garage with an attendant—that much less likely to have his car jacked by the fucking mob—and they hopped on the nearest bus. It was a short ride; he wasn’t interested in leaving his car alone for too long, attendant or not.

He looked over at Connor in the seat next to him; his eyes had briefly wandered to the back of the bus, but then he’d hesitantly sat next to Gavin. For the first time, Gavin noticed the android compartment. What was the point of that shit? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have your android right there with you, if you were traveling with them?

Connor’s expression looked carefully blank.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Gavin prompted. “Or quarter, I guess. Because of the coin tricks.” He attempted a smile.

“I’m fine,” Connor replied absently, and Gavin didn’t push the issue.

They arrived a few blocks away, and Gavin let his eyes scan the area. A few hobos sat on the steps of an industrial building that had letters missing from its sign. They passed a beverage in a brown paper bag back and forth between each other, and Gavin caught a sniff of marijuana in the air. The building was huge, likely a relic of the city’s twentieth-century manufacturing industry. Gavin wondered why this area had remained abandoned when so much had been redeveloped in other areas of Detroit, but they were too busy at the moment for him to do the research to find out.

Then there it was, Dale’s Android Pick-N-Pull. The sign on this one wasn’t falling down, so clearly they were doing better.

Gavin and Connor approached the building, gave a wordless nod, and walked in.

No one greeted them as they entered, which was par for the course. Gavin took a look around. The walls were covered in every android biocomponent imaginable, as well as some weird shit that Gavin assumed had to be mods to existing equipment. He wondered what this might look like to Connor. Was it like a pharmacy, or a secondhand organ market?

Gavin went up to the front counter, where a disinterested man in his late twenties was half-assedly wiping the glass display case with a rag that looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. His fingers were stained blue. Connor shifted next to him.

“Hey, I got a question,” Gavin greeted the man.

He looked up from his task, then tossed the rag onto the counter behind him, clearly grateful for an excuse to be rid of it. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

“So, a pal of mine’s folks just died and they had androids. The models are too old for him to use, so he wants to make a buck. Do you guys do that kind of thing here?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. What models are they?”

“Uh…” Fuck, he hadn’t gotten that far. Gavin pulled out his phone and pretended to look them up. Fortunately, Connor had come to the rescue. _AX400 and WR400._

“AX400 and WR400, apparently,” Gavin read. “Either of those mean anything to you?” He noticed Connor was no longer at his side; he’d check on him later.

“The AX400 is a domestic model. Housekeeping, childcare, that whole thing. Like a wife in a box. Only thing it won’t do is let you fuck it, though we’ve got mods for that, if you’re interested.” He gave Gavin a suggestive glance.

Gross. Even if he were straight… no. Just no. “Nah, this thing is too old to be useful. He’s just looking to get rid of it.”

“Fair enough. I should warn you, the AX400 won’t net him much, there’s just too many of them on the market for them to have much resale value. The WR400, on the other hand… that’s the sexbot model. That one’ll sell better. I can give him $200 for it and maybe $20 for the AX400. I dare him to find a better deal elsewhere. I mean, all we can do with those is scrap them.”

“Oh, really?” Gavin asked, feigning interest. “I guess that makes sense. People will want to repair their existing models.”

“Eh, not as much as you’d think,” the man corrected him, idly picking up a biocomponent from nearby and playing with it. “We mostly sell the parts to China. Too expensive to recycle domestically.”

Well, that was sketchy as fuck, but okay. “Gotcha. Hey, I’m gonna look around. Might be back with more questions.”

“Take your time. I’m here if you need anything.”

Gavin needed to find Connor, who had wandered off and was no longer in view. Normally that wouldn’t matter, but he was still uneasy after Connor’s reaction to the interview. Gavin wandered around the store, which was huge, and scanned for a tall, handsome man with a slightly stiff gait.

He found Connor looking at a wall of android heads that were absolutely, without a doubt, giving Gavin the creeps. “Find anything interesting?”

“When I was investigating the deviants,” Connor said quietly, “I saw the head of a Traci on the wall of the evidence room. She… had been in love with this other one at the Eden Club. So I used her head and modulated my voice to trick her girlfriend into giving me the location of Jericho.” Connor shivered. “Not my finest hour.”

“I did some fucked up shit in college,” Gavin reassured him. “Live and learn.”

“What’d you find?”

“So far, only that people are still too cheap-shit to care about the environment.” He left out the part about AX400 pussy mods. “Did you find anything?”

“No. I’ve mainly been scanning and recording the place, just in case we need to refer back to it later. And I’ve been doing a bit of people watching.” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Quite a few individuals who buy and sell here have criminal records, it turns out.”

“Any charges that are relevant to this case?”

“No. Well, not unless you count property crime, which I don’t,” Connor added. “Androids aren’t property. Well… we aren’t property _anymore.”_

“Not to be a dick, but it looks like these types would disagree. Speaking of.” Gavin saw the sales guy tidying up some shit nearby that a couple of punk-ass teenagers knocked down, and waved him over. “Do you think the recent android revolution shit’s gonna affect how much my bro can make reselling his androids? I’ve never owned one, so I have literally no idea.”

The man looked puzzled. “That one’s not yours?” He pointed at Connor.

Oh, boy.

Gavin could sense Connor tensing behind him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Behind you. That’s not an android?”

Gavin glared. “No. Do you see a fucking LED in his head?”

The man blanched. “Oh. Jesus, I’m sorry. I thought your friend—boyfriend—whatever there was an android. I was gonna ask how much you wanted for it, since I’ve never seen one like it before, but uh—”

“He, not it,” Connor snapped. Then Connor stepped beside him and took Gavin’s arm in his.

“Well, don’t I feel like an idiot,” the man said sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought you… never mind. Well, if I can interest either of you in an HR400 so you can have a gay threesome whenever you want—”

“No thank you,” Connor declared stiffly, clutching Gavin’s arm possessively.

Gavin’s entire arm was tingling from the contact with Connor, and it was slowly spreading up his shoulder and across the rest of him. His grip was strong as fuck; Gavin might need to tell him to take it down a notch with the pressure. Eventually. Once his heart rate went down and his quarter-chub went soft. “He’s the jealous type,” Gavin explained with a nervous laugh.

“I see. Welp.” The guy looked for any excuse to leave the conversation and found it in the form of a pair of squabbling women walking in the door with an android model Gavin didn’t recognize. It followed them meekly, glancing around the shop in a way that didn’t feel entirely machinelike, yet Gavin wasn’t sure he could assume deviant, either.

“AP700,” Connor said softly into Gavin’s ear. He shivered. “Household model.”

“Deviant?” Gavin whispered. He looked up at Connor.

Connor squinted. “Hard to tell.”

“Hey, how much for this thing?” one of the women called out loudly.

“Uh. We have a lot of AP700s right now, so probably only about forty or fifty bucks, depending on what year it was built. Do you have the production date?”

“January thirteenth, 2035,” the AP700 replied.

“God, that thing’s ancient, Jenny. Get a new one, for real,” one of the women scolded. “Now that you’re tired of this one.” She cupped the AP700’s jaw. “Sorry, baby, it ain’t you. Jenny’s just not that into you. And also, I just got her a CyberLife giftcard for her fortieth birthday.”

“Oh my _God,_ Bree, shut _up,_ I’m not forty until like, February.” She turned to the salesman. “Hey, are you still willing to buy it even though I broke its dick? I mean. Not intentionally.” Bree made a gagging sound next to her and Jenny whirled around. “Dude, don’t look at me like that, it was vacuuming naked nearby and I knocked it over, I swear.”

_Wow,_ Gavin did not need to know any of that. Also, _oww._ His balls hurt in sympathy.

As he watched the two women getting increasingly loud about the android, Gavin felt Connor’s arm in his growing tighter and stiffer.

“Don’t worry about the dick,” the salesman reassured her. “We got too many AP700s, I can only pay you for parts, so you can snap its dick right off if you want, you’re still only getting forty bucks for it,” he explained, shrugging. He busied himself examining the branding on the AP700’s jacket.

Jenny looked for a second like she was actually considering taking the AP700’s dick off and taking it home with her, when Bree playfully shoved her arm. “No! You have enough dildos already, bitch. We’re buying you a new boyfriend anyway.”

“Ugh, _fine,”_ Jenny whined. She turned to the salesman. “Yeah. Forty bucks, whatever. I’ll buy us Thai food, Bree, my treat. Hang on, though, I think those are my ex’s pants it’s wearing.” She looked at the AP700. “Hey, Gash Basher, take your pants off.”

_“What?! That’s_ what you named it?!” Bree shrieked, aghast.

“Bitch, like you’ve never given your phone a weird name before!” Jenny retorted, and the AP700 hesitantly, slowly began to disrobe.

Connor’s grip was stronger than ever. “Hey,” Gavin whispered. “I’m fleshy, loosen up. You don’t have to let go, just—yeah, that’s better.” He wanted to look up at Connor to check on him, but the shitshow unfolding in front of them was too compelling. 

“Hurry up,” Jenny snapped, smacking the AP700 with her gaudy, tasteless handbag. Gavin fantasized briefly about setting it on fire, then made himself focus. The AP700 did not look happy, but it was obeying her, so maybe it wasn’t a deviant. Yet its face was expressive, and all but screamed _I don’t want to be here,_ and so Gavin was at a loss.

The AP700 finished removing its pants and handed them to Jenny. “Take the rest off too, you might as well.” She looked at the salesman. “You won’t pay us for its clothes, will you? No? Fuck it then, yeah. This’ll be the last time I ever watch you undress, big boy,” she catcalled.

Gavin found her remarks to be in _extremely_ poor taste, and judging by how stiff Connor’s body language had become, he likely agreed.

Finally, the AP700 was completely naked, and did indeed have a dick mod. Gavin didn’t think they’d come standard on household models, though then again, who the fuck knew. He wasn’t sure what Jenny had meant by “broken” and wasn’t about to ask; they were staring too obviously already.

“Okay. See ya. You’re gonna wipe it, right?” Jenny pocketed her two twenty-dollar bills after holding them up to the light to ensure that they weren’t counterfeit.

“Yes, we do data destruction,” the man began, “but we can’t guarantee—”

“Okay, cool. Bye!” She tugged Bree’s hand and bounced out the doorway. Bree gave the man an apologetic look before following her. 

“Wow,” the man said, then shook his head. “Women,” he scoffed, then took out his phone. “Let’s see… AP700 deactivation codes…”

Connor tensed, and Gavin did look up at him this time. His eyes were fixed on the android. Gavin wondered what color his LED would be, if he had been wearing it.

“‘Parliamentary substitution,’” the man called out. The android did nothing but blink. “Okay, not that one. ‘Disassociated hippopotamus.’ ‘Shines wriggly.’ ‘Fast caucus igneous—’”

The AP700 shut down, its head lolling slightly forward, its eyes open to a blank, glassy expression. It almost looked afraid.

Connor put his other arm around Gavin’s waist and tugged on him until their hips were touching. Gavin let go of Connor’s arm and nervously hooked his own around Connor’s slender waist in return. They had to sell it, he assumed.

The AP700’s LED went from red to clear as it shut off entirely. Then its skin and hair vanished and it became uncanny, like a store mannequin. It looked lifeless, utterly devoid. The visual made Gavin uncomfortable.

“Hey, Eddie! Joe! Daph! Come help me with this.”

Three people appeared at the back of the store: two men, one short and stocky, the other of towering height, and a woman built like a brick shithouse. “This one?” the short man asked, poking the AP700’s immobile plastic arm.

“Yeah. Go ahead and take it apart. Recycle guy comes Tuesdays and Fridays, let’s get it ready,” the salesman directed.

Gavin felt Connor look away when the three of them started wrenching the limbs and head off of the AP700, and if he was being honest, he wasn’t feeling it either. He looked up at Connor, who almost—almost—looked like he was about to cry, and tilted his head toward the door. Connor nodded, clutching Gavin’s waist.

They took a few slow steps toward it, when Gavin finally heard something relevant.

“Did the codes work?” one of the men asked. “I know there was an issue like that last time. We’ve been getting a lot of those lately, the buggy older ones.”

“Yup, it worked. Glad we didn’t have to call him in, because _fuck,_ that dude gives me the creeps. Like, Dark Web, basement-full-of-illegal-automatic-weapons level of creeps. Dude probably has a _ton_ of sex mods for all the bots he buys from people. And a lot of dough. Too bad we only see maybe ten percent of it. The fuck is he even doing with those things, anyway?”

“I don’t wanna know,” the woman said.

“My money’s on a super fucking macabre production of the musical ‘Chess,’ but with an all-android cast. ‘One night in Bangkok makes—’”

“I swear to God, Eddie, if I hear that song one more time—”

“I recorded them,” Connor whispered. “Let’s go. Please.”

Gavin felt torn; on one hand, they were finally getting information. On the other, Connor looked unwell and was gripping his hoodie hard enough that his plastic chassis was showing through on his hands.

However, within three seconds the topic of conversation had changed to arguing about theater, and thus it was safe to lead Connor out of the shop. Gavin had to let go but he let Connor hold onto his arm, and tried not to think too hard about the sparks that were skittering across his skin.

Then at last, they were in Gavin’s car, and Connor slumped over miserably.

“Dude, you okay?” Gavin asked.

“Fuck no, Reed, I’m not okay!” Connor shouted, and Gavin willed himself to breathe as anger boiled up in him. “I just watched two humans sell one of my people to recyclers and rip his head off. He didn’t even have a real name—that sick, fucked-up human just… she just…” Connor’s shoulders were trembling, and Gavin put his hand on one of them. “Don’t fucking touch me, you’re just like her,” Connor snapped.

“What?” Gavin drew his hand back as though it had been burned. “No, I’m not! I’ve never owned an android, and even if I did, I sure as fuck wouldn’t name it something shitty like ‘Gash Basher,’” he protested. “You’re just upset. Don’t take it out on me. You’re being irrational.”

“Oh, am I? How the fuck would _you_ have reacted, Reed?” Connor demanding, turning to glare at him, his arms crossed in front of himself.

“Listen,” Gavin began. “I’m starving. I’m taking us to that restaurant, and we can talk it out, or not. Whatever. But we did get some information out of this, so it was at least partially a success. Try to think of it like that.” Ignoring Connor’s previous request, he reached over and squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “You think I don’t get it? I’ve gone to the scenes of gay bashings and hate crimes. I once had to investigate the murder of a gay teen at the hands of his own family. It fucked me up for weeks. But I fucking nailed those sick fucks, and got them life imprisonment without parole. They’ll die in the slammer. That’s the best we can do.”

Connor nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.” He looked morose, and huddled against the passenger-side door in that hideous fleece pullover.

“I’m gonna drive now,” Gavin said gently. “Seatbelt on. Oh, and uh… let’s keep whatever that hug thing was, our own little secret. There is a hundred percent chance that Hank will literally murder me if he ever finds out about it.”

“… Two hundred percent,” Connor snorted against the window.

Gavin smiled, exhaling through his nose in amusement, and put the car in gear.


	16. Connor Feels Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin eats lunch with Tina, and meets with Connor for another hookup.
> 
> Smut tags: handjobs, blowjobs

They were sitting at a booth in a kitschy old diner, Gavin with his head in a gigantic several-page menu and Connor watching the patrons, scanning each of them for criminal records. Considering he hadn’t done much to help Detective Reed when they were at the android shop, he felt that this was the least he could do. None of the charges were relevant, however, so he was forced to give up for now.

Gavin put the menu down and gave his order to the android waitress, then looked at Connor. His gray eyes were inquisitive. “So. You wanna talk?”

“Not really,” was Connor’s half-hearted response.

“I think we should talk,” Gavin pressed. “This shit is clearly getting to you.”

Connor said nothing, fixing his gaze on a tear in the vinyl in the booth, about a foot to Gavin’s right.

“This case is going to uncover some fucked-up shit. I need to know that you can handle it.”

“I’m fine,” Connor hissed irritably.

“No, you’re not. Quit dicking me around, Connor.” Gavin sighed. “Look, I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. But we’re cops. And you’re an android. How did you go from that to… where you are now?”

Connor looked at Gavin, and realized that he felt sad. “I… I don’t know.”

“Is there… fuck, I almost asked if there was a shrink for androids.” Gavin snorted. “Probably not. Let’s at least agree on one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Connor didn’t like how apprehensive he sounded. This was Reed’s case; he was, for all intents and purposes, in charge. Connor needed to be okay with whatever Gavin was suggesting, and whatever they’d encounter. He needed to be okay. He was not okay.

“That you’ll at least communicate with me when shit is freaking you out. Granted, there might not always be a way out. But you gotta stop snapping at me. I’m not every asshole human all bound up into one person.” Gavin held Connor’s gaze.

“And I’m not every misbehaving, dangerous deviant,” Connor countered.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Okay, I see what you did there. Fine.” His lips twitched in what possibly was an attempt at a smile. “Deal?” He held out his hand across the table. 

Connor scanned the room for anyone they knew from the DPD. Seeing no one, he took Gavin’s hand and squeezed it. Gavin squeezed back, and a bunch of popups flashed on his HUD. Connor might have to tweak the settings for those; for how far he’d gone with Gavin, they would only continue to be more and more frequent.

He glanced down at the table. It had a clear plastic top, under which a weathered vinyl tablecloth could be seen. It featured red and orange leaves and other autumn motifs, suggesting that it had not been changed since winter had arrived. The other patrons were mostly senior citizens, with the occasional group of college students. To his left was a display of various sauces, syrups and jams, the likes of which he’d seen before, at one of Hank’s favorite eateries. Perhaps Hank and Gavin weren’t so different after all.

He sighed. “I guess I just don’t understand humans,” he began, picking up a jam packet and staring at it. Then he opened it and dipped a finger into it to taste. When he looked up, Gavin was staring at him, his cheeks flushed. “This is no time for sexual thoughts, Gavin,” he added.

“Wha—? I wasn’t—” Gavin sputtered.

“As I was saying. I don’t understand. That woman was so…” Connor searched all of his databases, yet couldn’t find a word. “It seems particularly wrong with a non-deviant android, too,” he decided. “That AP700 had no agency whatsoever. At least deviants get to choose, even if we usually end up losing our lives in the process.”

“I gotta wonder, though,” Gavin cut in. “What’s better? To be deviant and to be fucking dead, or to be alive yet stuck being some creepy chick’s walking dildo?”

Connor raised an eyebrow at Gavin. “You’re using a rather contemptuous tone for someone who also has sex with androids.”

“Shut up, you’re different,” Gavin muttered, stirring his spoon in his coffee for longer than was strictly necessary.

There they were, more HUD warnings.

“I’m flattered, Gavin, but I also know that you had sex with that Eden Club android. And enjoyed it, as I recall.” Connor smirked.

“What? When was that?” A look of anxiety crossed Gavin’s face.

“The night we found the deviants there. I scanned that android, and then saw the same scene again after the murder occurred.”

Gavin swallowed. “Just the one scene?”

“Just one. Why, are there others I should know about?” Connor brought the jam packet to his lips and licked it, just to watch Gavin squirm. Yet the cause of his strange behavior seemed unrelated to Connor’s sexual innuendos.

“N-No, just one. One’s enough,” Gavin muttered, sighing. “Oh good, the food’s here.”

Gavin dug in, and Connor pondered the question given to him. “I suppose it depends. I’m glad I have free will, but as you’ve noticed, deviancy has its drawbacks. However, it’s safe to say that at least in my case, I’m enjoying myself far more than the AP700 would be, as…” He paused. “As mutual sex partners.”

“Ugh, that’s such a bonerkiller way of putting it, though,” Gavin groaned around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Good. I’m not encouraging you to get an erection in a public diner,” Connor snorted. He placed the jam packet on the table.

Gavin rolled his eyes and continued to eat with relish. Connor didn’t understand eating as a form of pleasure, but he had observed the feeling in others. He himself could taste things—or, well, analyze them, which he supposed was similar to tasting—but an entire meal would likely cause problems with his biocomponents. While his system could break down and reuse just about any matter he’d ingest in trace amounts for analysis, eating required more than a trace amount. Oral sex with Detective Reed, however, would likely be fine, provided he didn’t swallow him every day for the next month. He supposed he should be cautious—he wasn’t sure how to repair himself as a deviant, being unable to get to CyberLife for maintenance—but he’d done research on the average amount of semen an adult male would ejaculate and it was below the upper limit of what his closed-loop system could handle. 

“What are you staring at me for?” Gavin asked, and Connor realized that he’d been preoccupied with his own inappropriately sexual thoughts. Perhaps he was a hypocrite and the right thing to do would be to allow Gavin to get aroused at every opportunity, no matter how unwise.

“Hey. Connor.” Gavin snapped his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “I was lost in thought.”

Gavin looked concerned.

“No, not that. I was thinking about tomorrow,” Connor explained, with a sly smile.

There it was, that so-very-human flushed skin response to arousal. Gavin didn’t react the same way as other people Connor had met with fairer skin, but when he was pushed to it, the heat all but radiated off of Gavin’s body. Connor liked it. His skin only did that for effect.

“I won’t spoil anything,” Connor teased. Then he lowered his voice. “But if you’re very good tomorrow, I have big plans for a week from Saturday.” He winked.

Gavin coughed loudly and thumped on his chest. Connor wondered if he was about to choke and was prepared to launch out of his seat and stop it, but then Gavin swallowed hard and Connor realized it was just from surprise. “I, uh. What’s happening next Saturday?” Gavin asked in a raspy voice.

“I told you. No spoilers. Just enjoy your lunch. I’ll explain more tomorrow night. All you have to do is be good. You’re getting way better at it, by the way. I didn’t have high hopes, but it turns out that sex is quite the motivator for humans.”

“Oh? And what motivates _you,_ Connor?” Gavin raised an eyebrow as he took a big bite of toast.

“Me? I only want a harmonious work environment,” Connor said innocently. “I went through several iterations of trying to get the response out of you that I was seeking and this is the one that worked.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” Gavin gave him an amused look. “I may be human and weak or whatever, but I’ve had feelings for decades. You haven’t. You sure you’re only in this arrangement for a team-building exercise at work?”

Connor felt suddenly at a loss. “I don’t follow.”

“Never mind,” Gavin said, looking a little embarrassed.

Oh.

“Are you asking if I find you sexually attractive?” Connor asked, with a sudden illumination of understanding.

“Shh!” Gavin hissed. “But also, yes. Just. Why you gotta be so clinical about it?” Gavin grumbled and drained the rest of his coffee.

“Would it be clinical to say that the answer is yes?”

The look on Gavin’s face in response made Connor wish they didn’t have to go back to the DPD. However, he wasn’t risking his hard-won job and freedom for a handjob in Gavin’s car, no matter how good the detective looked when he was aroused. He was so weak, so deliciously, delectably weak. If Connor had had any idea how fun this game would be to play, he would have initiated it a long time ago.

He watched Gavin reach under the table to adjust something, and smiled. Gavin glared at him in response, which made him smile wider. “Finish eating. We have until two o’clock to get back to the DPD. That’s the longest possible time we can be gone without arousing suspicion from either Captain Fowler or Hank.”

“Shit. You think of everything, don’t you?” Gavin wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked down at his empty plate. For how much he’d eaten, Gavin may have skipped breakfast. Or it could be increased metabolism from physical activity, such as gym work, which Gavin had treated Connor to a photo of. Connor resisted the urge to view the photo. He’d have time for that after work.

“Of course. I always accomplish my mission.” He winked again.

Gavin did that amusing little expression he always did when Connor winked, where he looked away while trying not to look like he was looking away, as though he was squirming. Connor liked it. “Let’s go back to the station. I need to analyze what I captured in further detail.”

“You can’t just do it in your head right now?” Gavin asked, pulling out his wallet to pay.

“Not with you distracting me, no,” Connor replied playfully.

“Well I’m glad you seem to be doing better. You kinda had me worried there for a second,” Gavin admitted, as they got up and went back to Gavin’s car.

“Worried? About me?” Connor teased, opening the passenger-side door and getting in.

“Shut up.”

Detective Reed went back to his desk, and Connor sat down at his own as he got ready to review the footage he’d captured. He’d scanned all the people he saw working and shopping at Dale’s Android Pick-N-Pull, none of whom were named Dale. Perhaps Dale had passed away or, more likely, never existed to begin with. The three employees and the shop owner were relatively innocuous; only one, the woman, had a criminal record of anything interesting. Apparently she’d been in a bar fight. Gavin might enjoy her company, he thought with amusement. Connor was certain Gavin had been in bar fights, given how many he picked at work. He wondered if that was how Gavin had gotten the scar on his nose.

There were one or two shoppers who also had criminal records: for one of them, petty theft involving androids, which wasn’t a surprise. Connor wondered when legislators would change the verbage to something less degrading. You didn’t steal humans. They didn’t belong to anybody. They belonged to themselves, and Connor belonged to himself. Hopefully soon, people would begin to see that. Was Detective Reed seeing it? He hadn’t displayed any of the responses Connor had expected from him when that awful woman had come in to sell her android to his death for Thai food. Gavin had seemed uncomfortable too, but understanding android issues was too much to hope for. Not after all the things he’d done and said about androids and Connor.

Connor raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Gavin had been thinking about the AP700’s dick, though Connor would have noticed if Gavin had shown signs of arousal.

He was distracted again. Connor closed his eyes and dismissed notifications from his HUD.

The other shoppers’ criminal records were of possible relevance: charges for Red Ice use and possession, though neither with intent to sell. However, they had happened years ago. The android “theft” case was recent.

Shaking his head, Connor closed the video he’d taken. He’d examine it again if the need called for it. Jenny and her friend Bree had no criminal records, as the revolution had not yet extended far enough to criminalize the degrading treatment and loss of life that that AP700 had suffered. Perhaps someday.

“Hey, you’re here,” Hank greeted as he approached. “Was kinda wondering when you and Detective Fuckhead would be getting back. Started to worry a little.”

“I’m fine,” Connor reminded him, a little less patiently than he would have liked.

“You know how Reed is,” Hank said firmly.

“I do. And I can handle him. We get along now,” Connor insisted.

Hank snorted. He looked like he wanted to push the issue, then decided against it and sat down. “You still going to that android meetup tomorrow night? Never did tell me what it was about.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m going. And it’s just a social group for deviants,” Connor lied.

“What kinda social? Therapy? Trivia nights? Bowling league? Dating?”

“Uh, we haven’t gotten that far,” Connor deflected. “Right now we’re just discussing our experiences.” He preconstructed a fake scenario and saved it in his memory, so it’d be consistent every time Hank asked. “Also, next Friday’s meetup will happen on Saturday instead.”

“That’s fine, Connor. Not like you have a curfew. And just tell me to shove it if I get too protective. I’m not your dad. You’re a grown man with free will who only sleeps on my couch because they’re still ironing out all that legal shit.”

“I do like living with you, though,” Connor said kindly.

“It’s because of the dog, isn’t it?” 

“Possibly.”

Hank chuckled and gave Connor an attempt at a smile. He was doing better. “Well, I can’t complain. House looks nicer and you take Sumo out when he wakes up at five in the goddamn morning, so I get more sleep. Plus, you’re nice to be around, Connor. I mean that. I’m used to people like Reed and Fowler. You’re… nice.”

“Tina Chen is nice as well, if that helps restore your faith in your fellow officers,” Connor said cheerfully.

“Ha. Is she the reason you can handle Reed now?”

_Not really._ “In part. She did give me advice. But remember, Hank, what I was designed to do.”

“Stop deviants?”

“Get along with people. Well, and that too, I suppose. I think I’m better at the former,” he mused.

“You are. Just don’t let Reed take all the credit for solving that case.”

Connor smirked. “I won’t.”

Connor woke out of stasis the following morning to a very large dog snuffling on his chest. It was 5:12 am. He opened his eyes and lifted his arm to pet Sumo. “Good morning.”

Connor got to his feet, glancing down at himself. He wore a sleeveless, sheer white undershirt and black boxer briefs. He would need pants to take Sumo out, but perhaps the shirt on its own would suffice. Hank had taken Sumo out in an undershirt before.

Connor got Sumo’s leash—though it was only a precautionary measure, seeing as how Sumo, unlike most dogs, had no interest whatsoever in running off—and put it on him. He put on his shoes and they went outside, locking the door with the spare key Hank had given him.

He realized, a few blocks from the house, that it probably looked conspicuous that he was crunching his way through the snow in just an A-shirt and jeans, but if people saw, they’d probably be paying more attention to Sumo. The dog had grown fond of Connor, and vice versa.

Connor politely looked away as Sumo squatted, with a roll of small plastic baggies in one hand and Sumo’s leash in the other.

When the important biological needs were attended to, Connor returned to Hank’s house, gently removing the leash and giving Sumo a treat. He then busied himself tidying up. Hank had stopped fighting it; he’d realized eventually that Connor did not feel the need to take care of him because he was a human. Connor simply liked order, and physical objects inside a house were far easier to keep in order than the thoughts and feelings in his now-deviant mind.

At about six am, Connor sat back on the couch and ran maintenance tasks. Then he sifted through the new clothes he’d purchased recently with his first paycheck from the DPD. Detective Reed had liked some of these, but he hadn’t seen every item yet. He’d noticed the cologne, too. Connor didn’t mind having no natural scent of his own, but humans enjoyed them, and he’d found it interesting to stand at the cologne counter of a department store and analyze all the fragrances. The one he’d chosen had a formula that was bright yet masculine, a softer kind as opposed to the more forceful fragrances he’d sampled. This one also happened to be the salesperson’s favorite, and Connor had noticed her flushed cheeks and clearly evident attraction to him. He’d tried the cologne on his wrist to indulge her, then ended up liking it. Detective Reed liked it, too. And Connor liked that Reed liked it. It made him feel powerful, to know that even the smallest of gestures and choices of clothing could light a fire, could make Gavin aroused and hard in minutes. Was he that easy, or was Connor that good?

Connor chose a new dress shirt to go with his jeans and shoes. He’d save the truly striking outfit for that evening. He’d promised Gavin a blowjob, and Connor was a man of his word. And Gavin had earned it. He was being good, far better than Connor had hoped for. Perhaps the BDSM had shaped him up, or perhaps he’d figured out quickly that the favors would end if he didn’t continue to behave. Connor hoped he would, however. He didn’t want to have to cut Gavin off. He himself was enjoying it too much.

This point was proven when Connor went to tuck in his shirt and found that his pants were a little too tight. He wondered if he had the time for an early-morning jerkoff session, then decided against it. Better to save it for that evening. 

Connor arranged some items in the kitchen and unloaded the dishwasher in an attempt to ready himself for work. He supposed he’d better contact Elijah Kamski, as he knew him—well, had met him—and had a better shot at getting a meeting with him than Gavin would. He’d bring Gavin with him, of course; they were quite the team. 

Why did that make Connor feel nervous? He wasn’t nervous in the way he’d felt when searching for the backdoor exit in the Zen garden. These nerves were almost pleasant. He looked forward to their evening together.

Hank emerged from his room, half-dressed and ready for breakfast, and when he’d finished and was ready to go, they drove to the precinct in Hank’s car in companionable silence.

Connor approached the break room, Hank’s worn coffee mug in hand. It was about eleven o’clock, and while Connor knew Gavin was likely at work today, he had yet to run into him. Connor himself had accompanied Hank to meetings and spoken with Fowler about his work, and thus hadn’t spent much time at his desk. Fowler seemed confused that Connor was working with Gavin, but had not objected to it at any point. Connor had confirmed that Gavin was, indeed, behaving, and then had gone on his way.

Now, he was pausing to collect some more coffee for Hank before he made the call to the Kamski residence.

Gavin was standing next to the coffee machine, and flushed when he saw Connor. He averted his eyes. Connor, not even pretending to be innocent, gave him a smile.

_Ready for this evening?_

Gavin pulled out his phone, swiped it to read the text, and gave Connor a very weak glare. He wasn’t even trying. Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he acknowledged Connor with a nod. “What’re you working on today?”

“I am going to speak with Elijah Kamski, or I suppose one of his androids, and then assist Hank with paperwork. And yourself?” Connor went to fill up Hank’s mug.

“Lunch with Tina and yes, catching up on paperwork. Boring day. My evening will be better,” Gavin added in a low voice.

“I’m sure it will, if the rumors about you being Detroit’s most eligible bachelor are true,” Connor added sarcastically, just in case anyone was listening.

Gavin snorted. “Well. Keep me posted about Kamski. Nice work, Connor.” He clapped Connor’s shoulder in gratitude and departed.

Connor’s core system temperature shot up two degrees. He shook it off and returned to his desk.

Hank was arguing on the phone with someone; Connor wasn’t sure whom and wasn’t about to ask. He instead busied himself contacting the Kamski residence.

He heard a voice inside his head. “Hello?”

Connor smiled. “Hello, Chloe. This is Connor. I’m from the Detroit Police Department. Do you remember me?” In his peripheral vision, Connor saw Hank get up and walk away with his phone, as he tried to lower his voice out of consideration for Connor.

“Of course I remember you,” Chloe replied brightly, and Connor could almost see her dazzling smile. She really was very pretty. “How can I assist you today?”

“I need to meet with Mr. Kamski. It’s about a case. Is there a time he’ll allow us to come by?” Connor stared straight ahead as he chatted with Chloe over their wireless connection. A beat cop in uniform gave him an odd look as he passed by, then kept walking.

“I can ask him,” Chloe offered. “I believe right now he’s in his workshop. I’ll contact you once I’ve heard from him. Do you have a preference of date or time?”

“Earlier in the week is best and I have another meeting on Wednesday,” Connor replied.

“All right, I’ll make a note of that. Anything else?”

“I’ll be bringing a colleague with me,” Connor added. He glanced over at Gavin’s desk, which was currently empty. Lunchtime, perhaps. “Just one. I thought you would want to know for security reasons.”

“That is much appreciated, yes,” Chloe acknowledged. “I’ll get in contact with Elijah and let you know. I look forward to seeing you again, Connor.”

“And I, you,” Connor replied graciously. “Good afternoon, Chloe.”

The line disconnected.

Well. It would be nice to see a familiar face, and an intelligent one, like himself. Perhaps Connor should question Chloe as well; there could be things she knew that Kamski didn’t. Even a mind like his had limits.

Connor got to work, opening Hank’s neglected reports in the order in which they had been issued.

“So. How is he?”

“I swear to God, Tina, if you ask me that one more fucking time, I’m gonna lose it,” Gavin growled from behind a comically oversized menu. They’d opted for Tina’s favorite restaurant for lunch this time. It wasn’t Gavin’s favorite, but he didn’t care; all he wanted that day was a burger and onion rings and those, it turned out, could be had just about anywhere.

“All right, jeez, calm down.” Tina put her menu down and they gave their orders to the android waiter, who carried them off under one arm. “How are _you,_ then?”

“I’m fine. Great. Whatever,” Gavin sighed. He shouldn’t sound too exasperated; Tina was his best friend and there was no need to be a dick. But fuck him, he was so nervous—excited?—about tonight. Connor in his bed again, or maybe on his knees—

“Yo. Earth to Reed.” Tina snapped her fingers.

_“I’m listening,”_ he exclaimed.

“There’s something going on, isn’t there? Like, okay, let’s pretend for a second that you’re not clearly into him. You’re different, in a way that I can’t attribute solely to you suddenly getting laid again.”

Gavin made eye contact, finally, and braced himself for interrogation skills that rivaled his own. Tina would make a damn fine detective someday, if that was her goal. To his knowledge, she was still keeping her options open. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. You’re different,” she insisted, unwrapping her straw and pushing it into the milkshake she’d ordered. “Calmer.” She took a long suck out of her shake. “Happier, even.”

Gavin could feel his face soften and heat up. “Fine. Yes, I’m getting laid. But not with Connor! Just. Uh. One of my old bang buddies who’s back in town. The one who’s really, really good at sucking dick. He’d make anyone happy. He’d make Fowler’s fuckin’ sourpuss happy. Or Hank’s.”

“Lieutenant Anderson is happier too,” Tina pointed out. “I’ve got a theory as to why,” she smirked, making a lewd gesture with the straw and her tongue.

“Hank is _not_ fucking Connor,” Gavin spat furiously. “Now you’ve gone too fucking far.”

Tina raised an eyebrow. “Calm down, dude, it was a fucking joke. Jeez. No robot fuckers at the DPD, then.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh thank God, there’s our onion rings.”

The tension dissipated as they tucked in; Gavin knew he should apologize for the intensity of his reaction, but the more time passed, the more awkward an apology felt, and so he was forced to give up before long. 

“How’s the case, anyway?” she asked, a little hesitantly.

“It’s fine. Well…” He paused. Fuck it. “Connor is… I dunno, dude, the whole robot emotions thing is fucking weird to me, it just is.” 

“Wait, what whole robot emotions thing?” Tina started.

Gavin cringed. How much could he even say? Connor had been very vulnerable, and it was probably best not to betray that vulnerability to others. And yet, Gavin was so troubled by it, and Tina was likely the one person who wouldn’t make it a thing or worse, accuse him of abusing Connor.

“Now that he’s a deviant, he feels shit,” Gavin said finally, trying to keep it vague. “And because he’s a fucking android, feelings are new, he hasn’t had 36 years and parents like we have. So when shit upsets him, he has no fucking idea how to cope, and—” He stopped himself, afraid he’d already said too much.

Fortunately, it was enough for Tina to get it. “Fuck, dude. That’s gotta complicate it.”

“Yeah. Just a little.” _As though it wasn’t already complicated enough._

“Do you need to work with him?” she asked.

_Yes._ “Not technically, he’s not been assigned to this case, he picked it up because he wanted to.” He snorted as he grabbed another onion ring. “Which would, if he were human, go a long way to explain the emotions and stress. No one fucking _chooses_ extra work. That’s the thing about so many detective novels and TV shows and shit. You people really think motherfuckers like us are gonna want even _more_ shit to do?”

“Well, he is an android,” Tina said cheerfully. “He can do that. We are finite.”

“Yeah. He won’t run out of batteries for a century. Read that in his ops manual.” Gavin picked the breading off of the onion ring and ate both separately, ignoring Tina’s look of mock disgust. Whatever, she put quinoa on popcorn. She could deal.

“You read his ops manual?” She grinned.

Gavin glared at her. “Yes. And I read terms of service, EULAs, all of that shit. Because I’m a fucking detective, Tina. I like to know shit. And if I have to share office space with a copbot, I need to know what he’s capable of.”

“Like kicking your ass?” She laughed out loud. “Oh my god, your face! I’m sorry, Gav, that was a low blow. Here. Kicking _anyone’s_ ass. I guarantee you he would have fucked me up too.”

Their food arrived, and they ate in relative silence. Gavin was famished, and clearly Tina was as well, from how she was packing away her chicken sandwich.

“Any plans for the weekend?” she asked, sighing happily and glancing down at the crumbs on her plate, the only evidence that there had once been a sandwich there.

_Oh, shit._ “Uh. Yeah. Gonna see… gonna see a movie,” Gavin lied.

Tina raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push it.

“What about you?” he asked weakly.

“Sister’s getting married in May, so she’s up my ass about wedding planning. I know literally nothing about it and also don’t care, but it’s important to her, so I’m helping.” Tina finished her milkshake. “Well. If that movie you’re totally lying about is any good, let me know.” She winked.

Gavin said nothing, just snorted and grimaced.

They paid the tab and went back to the DPD. When they arrived, Tina stopped him in front of the building.

“Hey. Listen. I’m glad you’re happier, and I’m sorry if I’m giving you too hard of a time.”

Gavin sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have snapped. Sorry. Must just be stressed about the case. You’re more cut out for the feelings shit than I am.”

“Because I’m a girl, or because you’re a dick?” 

“The latter.” He playfully shoved her arm.

She chuckled. “Hey, I gotta run. I’ll be busy next week but we can meet up the following week. See ya!”

“Have fun.” Gavin waved.

He looked at his phone. Oh, fuck. Just a few more hours, and then… 

_Connor._

This time, Gavin showered and scrubbed every inch of himself in water so hot he could barely stand it. Why? Connor couldn’t catch anything; for starters, he was an android, and furthermore, Gavin didn’t have anything to catch, thank you very much.

He dressed in one of the nice sweaters he’d bought while he was on suspension and wore the new, soft silky boxers that had reminded him of Connor’s own. The moment he slipped them on, he knew buying them had been the right decision. Fuck, they were so soft. They felt so good on his freshly manscaped body—

A loud knock rapped on his front door and Gavin scrambled to find the well-cut jeans he was going to wear, then stumbled over to the door and opened it.

Connor was decked out in a cozy cardigan in a deep emerald, over a slim-fitted deep blue button down and very fitted black pants, and those expensive shoes, the brown leather cap-toe derbies. His hair was as perfect as ever, and the look of triumph in his eyes made Gavin twitch in his pants. “Hey, man. Come in.” Gavin shut the door behind Connor.

“You cleaned up for me?” Connor asked playfully as he bent to unlace his shoes. 

“Shut up, it wasn’t _just_ that,” Gavin muttered. “Friday nights I try to clean up after work.”

Connor presented himself to Gavin, reaching out to take Gavin’s shoulders, which were oriented toward the rest of the house as he looked out at it, and reoriented them so Gavin was facing him. “What do you think of my new clothes?”

Gavin swallowed, and felt his pants grow tight as he took it all in one more time. “I… you look, well, like always.”

Connor raised an eyebrow.

“By which I mean, fucking perfect. God, why you gotta put me on the spot like this?” Gavin sighed. “Come on.”

They retreated to Gavin’s bedroom, and Connor wasted no time in pushing Gavin back onto the bed. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he confessed. “It is possible that my efficiency on the job has been compromised, however.”

Gavin’s brain was already starting to fog, but he managed to comment. “If it has, literally no one has noticed. You fucking run circles around the humans.” 

“That I do.” Connor clambered up onto the bed and Gavin scooted up further. “Lie on your back. Get comfortable.”

Gavin did as he was told, as he felt himself get hard. “Will you—” He was about to ask Connor if he would kiss him and then was interrupted by it. It was slower than normal, savoring, yet no less hungry. Gavin lay back against the bed, his head comfortably on the pillow as Connor took over, pulling away for Gavin to breathe then immediately swooping in for another kiss, harder this time, with a muffled moan that went straight to Gavin’s dick.

Connor pulled back and sat up, straddling Gavin’s thighs and taking off his cardigan, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his dress shirt. He wasn’t interested in teasing this time, apparently; his fingers moved swiftly, making quick work of the buttons and yanking the hem of his shirt out of his pants, as he hurled it to join the cardigan.

Connor grabbed Gavin’s sweater. “Take it off,” he said breathlessly, and leaned forward to grind his clothed erection against Gavin’s. Gavin moaned and did his best to sit up and get his arms out of the sweater, then Connor helped him get it over his head. Connor then bent down and rubbed his face against Gavin’s chest, and Gavin reached up to run his fingers through Connor’s hair. Would Connor feel it if he…? Gavin decided to try it, rubbing Connor’s scalp—head—whatever with his fingertips, and Connor made a deep sound of bliss. The texture was smooth, like plastic, yet the hair definitely felt real, and as he tugged gently at it, hearing Connor’s moan muffled by his chest as Connor kissed it, all he could think was how beautiful Connor was.

Then Gavin’s touch went limp as Connor kissed his neck, hard at first, then sensually, slow, as though he was trying to rein in his desire. Did Connor want him, like really want him, for himself? It sure fucking felt that way.

Gavin tilted his head back to give Connor access, with a barely coherent moan. Connor’s lips slowed again, and each kiss to his neck was soft and tingly to the point that Gavin wondered if it was possible for an android to electrocute him through his lips.

By the time Connor sat up again, Gavin was so hard it almost hurt, swimming in sensation, barely able to breathe. Connor got up and off of him and quickly shed his pants and boxers, and Gavin had to stare at that perfect body, until Connor interrupted him by opening Gavin’s pants and whispering at him to take them off. Gavin did as he was told and Connor climbed on top of him again, this time facing away from him. He turned to look over his shoulder into Gavin’s eyes.

“I promised you, and I’m a man of my word,” Connor said breathlessly. He took Gavin’s cock in hand and Gavin moaned sharply, bucking his hips. Then he felt Connor descend on him, and he was engulfed in Connor’s warm, wet mouth.

“Connor,” Gavin groaned, thrusting upward. _“Fuck_ yeah…” He threw his head back and lost himself completely in bliss and the rhythm of Connor’s mouth on his cock, pumping and deepthroating him like it was his life’s work. Gavin groped upward with his eyes closed until he found Connor’s thighs, grabbing them and letting his hands boldly drift to Connor’s ass, kneading with his fingers and slapping one cheek. He opened his eyes and watched with fascination as his touch broke the veneer of pale skin and revealed white and gray.

Connor shivered at his touch and gasped around Gavin’s cock at the spanking. For a moment Gavin worried that he’d fucked up, but Connor’s body spoke to him, as he blew him faster and harder.

Then Gavin reached for Connor’s cock and got a few short, awkward strokes in before Connor released Gavin’s cock, turning to glance over his shoulder. “Don’t, I can’t last if you do that, I’m—” He turned back around and descended on Gavin hungrily, moaning desperately around Gavin’s dick, and Gavin lay back, staring at Connor’s glorious ass in his face, wondering how good it would feel to fuck it, to make Connor moan his name, make him lose it hard—

Gavin came abruptly with no time to warn, but Connor was prepared, swallowing him like a champ, pulling off and turning around, licking his lips as though tasting something sweet. Gavin stared up at him as he tried to catch his breath, noticing the same bits of gray in Connor’s lips as they slowly turned back to the pale skin illusion Gavin was used to. Connor’s eyes were dark and he, too, was panting, though Gavin wasn’t sure why, as Connor didn’t need to breathe. Ventilation or cooling, perhaps? Gavin’s eyes followed Connor’s shoulders, then his chest and waist, until he saw Connor’s cock, hard and twitching as though he was barely holding back.

“I need to look at you as I cum,” Connor confessed, and as Gavin reached for him again, he nodded. “God, yes. Please.”

If Gavin hadn’t literally just blown his load down Connor’s throat, that one word, right there, would have made it happen. He took Connor’s dick and stroked it fast and hard, and Connor threw back his head and groaned deep in his chest, his hips rocking forward into Gavin’s fist. “Fuck, I’m close—”

Gavin watched, enraptured, as Connor shot so hard it hit the top of his chest, almost hitting his collarbone, and his head sagged forward, his skin artificially flushed and his hair messed up from their play. Then Connor opened his eyes and laughed breathlessly. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“I could tell,” Gavin said with a lazy smirk. “It was really fucking hot. To watch you like that.”

Connor climbed off of him, and Gavin thought with a sinking heart that he was leaving immediately, but then Connor flopped over into his bed right next to him, all bones and angles and lines. They turned on their sides to face each other. “You must be quite the expert on masturbation, given your skill at handjobs.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Gavin scoffed. He grinned and poked Connor in the chest with one finger. “You’re welcome.”

Connor smiled, full of mischief as always, nowadays.

They relaxed for a little while, just looking at each other. Gavin was acutely aware of the passage of time, and he didn’t want Connor to leave just yet. Maybe they could go another round? Or—

“Gavin,” Connor began.

He dropped whatever ideas he’d been thinking about. “Yeah?”

“Next weekend… if you’re willing, I’d like to fuck you,” Connor said softly.

Gavin swallowed. He felt his cock twitch, soft and sated but very interested in the idea. “In the ass?”

“In the ass.”

A pause. “I think I can do that,” Gavin agreed slowly.

“Are you sure?” Connor asked. “You… you kind of seem like—”

“Yeah, well, it’s different with you,” Gavin rambled, slightly embarrassed.

Connor grinned. “You’re blushing, Gavin. Are you blushing just thinking of my big, hot, hard—”

“Stop it,” Gavin sputtered, and playfully shoved Connor’s shoulder, snorting, and the next thing he knew he was tangled up in Connor’s arms, being kissed, slowly, deeply. His eyes closed, and he didn’t even care about the sticky mess on Connor’s body getting all over him.

Eventually, Connor broke the kiss, and they looked at each other again.

“Are you familiar with the cleaning ritual that is customary to complete beforehand?” Connor asked clinically, completely shattering the mood.

Gavin did a whole-body cringe. “For the love of fuck, Connor, yes, I am. Please, let us say no more on the subject,” he exclaimed in a playful jab at Connor’s speech.

Connor smiled pleasantly. “Saturday night, yes? A week from tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”

Then they both looked at each other, realizing for the first time what that meant.

Connor smirked.

Gavin coughed. “You know what I mean! A calendar date,” he hastened to add. “Whatever.”

“I’m looking forward to it already.”

Connor kissed him one last time, unhurriedly, and then reluctantly got out of Gavin’s bed. “Hank will start to wonder,” he said, sighing wistfully. 

“You can’t just make some shit up?”

“I already have, but androids are terrible liars,” Connor explained apologetically.

Gavin snorted. “Fair enough.”

They cleaned up and Connor dressed, taking his time. Then Gavin pulled on a pair of pajama pants and walked Connor to the door.

“See you at work on Monday,” Connor said.

Their eyes met. Connor was taller. Gavin was looking up.

“See you,” Gavin said softly.

“Bye,” Connor added, without moving.

“Bye.”

After a few agonizing seconds during which Gavin was going crazy trying to figure out whether Connor would kiss him or not, Connor left, and gently closed the door behind him.

Gavin got in bed, then remembered their plans for Saturday. Just what had he agreed to?

Whatever it was… he was down.


	17. Kamski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Connor visit Elijah Kamski about the case.

Gavin woke up on Saturday to a beep on his nightstand. He reached over and awkwardly groped for his phone from where he was lying on his back, twisted up in sheets and blankets.

It was Connor. _Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. I wanted to let you know that Elijah Kamski has accepted my request for a meeting and has set the date for Monday at 2 pm. Is this acceptable?_

Fuck. Look at this guy, burning the… whatever, 9 a.m. oil, Gavin thought with a glance to the clock on his bedside table. He typed a message. _Yeah, that works for me. I’ll drive us._ He hesitated, then added, _Good morning, by the way. Did you sleep well?_ Then he mentally kicked himself. _Androids don’t sleep, idiot,_ he thought.

_My stasis was quite pleasant, thank you,_ was the reply. _I admit that I rested better last night after seeing you._

Gavin smiled. _Did Hank notice anything?_

_No. He was asleep when I got home. I wish I’d known. I would have stayed longer._

Gavin felt himself getting a little more nervous than was ideal. _Well, maybe sometime, let’s come up with a good alibi and take our time,_ he suggested.

_I’d like that._

About twenty seconds passed, and then Gavin received the following: _I’ll see you on Monday._

_See you,_ Gavin replied.

He lay there for a few more minutes, then got ready for his day.

On Monday, he was running a little late, and as he hustled up to the DPD, his trusty breakfast burrito wrapped in foil in the one hand and his coffee in the other, Gavin caught sight of Hank and Connor entering the building together. He held back a little so they didn’t see him; somehow, he found he just didn’t want to be around Hank. Not because of anything Hank had done specifically—though the intimidation had been shitty of him—but just because, well, it was a little awkward, given that Gavin was fucking his roommate in secret. And Hank was astute. He’d figure it out given enough information—or he’d at least suspect something—and Gavin wasn’t interested in dealing with that nonsense. Or getting fired. Would HR move one of them to a different department if the nature of their— _whatever_ —was brought to light? He hoped not, he’d miss working with the son of a bitch—

Gavin almost smacked into the glass door, and the android receptionist looked mildly over at him. “Be careful, sir,” she cautioned.

“S’okay, I meant to do that,” Gavin lied, and went to his desk, glad he’d spilled only a single, angry drop of hot coffee on his hand.

He sat down and ate, trying not to do so too quickly, and checked his email and caseload. He’d expected there to be a backlog, based on how long he and Connor had been working on this one, but so far, nothing. What the fuck?

Then he saw an email from Fowler.

_Reed,_

_You might be wondering why you don’t have any other cases. I have not decided to give you a vacation. The reason is that I want your focus to be on the android case because if you succeed, I’ll be sending a lot more your way. With the current political climate the way it is it’ll only be a matter of time before the android hate crime cases start pouring in. Right now, we only get calls if they’re stolen. That will change. Be ready. Connor says you two are going to question Elijah Kamski today. Be on your best behavior._

_Jeffrey Fowler  
Captain, Detroit Police Department_

“Aye-aye,” Gavin muttered at his screen, then took a sip of coffee. More cases like this one? Ugh, he didn’t want to be The Android Homicide Guy, but Fowler was the boss and that was that. And he probably couldn’t count on Connor being there to help with future cases.

Could he?

Gavin got to work. Okay, so. What were they going to ask Kamski about? Right, the custom model. He’d better gather up as much as he could about what the android could be like. He dug around in his desk for his notebook.

Then something on his computer beeped. It was an email from Connor, as though he was a motherfucking telepath, with everything Gavin had just been thinking about.

_Good morning Det. Reed,_

_I’ve compiled all of the information I have for today’s interview with Elijah Kamski. Please look over the attached report. Do you have anything to add?_

_Sincerely,_

_Connor RK800  
Forensic Consultant #3132  
Detroit Police Department_

For the first time, Gavin noticed Connor’s email signature. He really needed a last name.

The next thought he had made him groan out loud at his own idiocy. Nope. Not going there, now or ever. For one, Gavin was not the commitment type, let alone the marriage type, and two? Nope. Not even entertaining this bullshit for an android. Even if “Connor Reed” sounded nice, in the abstract. Could a guy take another guy’s last name platonically? It was 2038. Surely that was a thing now, or could be? Maybe androids could make it a thing.

_No, I can’t think of a thing. Thank you, Connor, this is hugely helpful._

_Det. Gavin Reed #6969  
Detroit Police Department_

He sent the email and felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Connor had sent him a thumbs-up. Oh, God, he’d discovered emoji.

Gavin went through the report Connor had sent, determined it to be Good Enough without his own input, and finished his burrito.

At noon, Connor appeared at his desk. “Kamski’s house is rather far from here, so I think we should leave by 12:45 pm. I’ll be accompanying Hank for lunch and then joining you. Will you be ready by then?”

“Duh,” Gavin confirmed with a smirk. “Have fun with Hank. I hope he’s cleaned up his act.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “He says the same thing about you, you know,” he added, with a playful gleam in his eye. Then he discreetly patted Gavin’s shoulder and left.

Gavin ate lunch and then waited restlessly, then decided to wait in his car. Connor joined him, and they set out.

“So,” Gavin began, putting the car in gear and turning over his shoulder to back out of his parking spot. “How do you feel about all this?”

“Me?” Connor asked. “I feel fine.” A beat went by. “Wait. I thought you said androids couldn’t feel anything.”

Gavin sighed. “Well, you can. You’re special. Magic. Whatever.”

“Or maybe you were wrong about us,” Connor suggested boldly.

Gavin’s eyes were focused on the road. “Or maybe it’s just you.”

“I suppose either answer is good for me,” Connor said pensively. “Either you’ve realized my people can feel, or you’re just that into me.” He chuckled to himself, pleased.

“Yeah, whatever,” Gavin replied, cheeks going hot.

They drove in silence for a while. Gavin expected it to be awkward, but somehow, it wasn’t. Time with Connor had become almost comfortable.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Gavin said out of the silence, his eyes on the road.

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’ve been debugging,” Connor replied absently. “Haven’t been thinking at all.”

“Debugging?”

“Yeah. Making sure nothing in my system has been corrupted and patching anything that has. I have to do my own checks now that CyberLife can’t do them. It’s the price I paid to be free,” Connor said quietly.

“Cool,” Gavin acknowledged awkwardly. “Just, uh, don’t go deleting anything important.”

He heard a quiet snort of amusement. “Don’t worry, Gavin. I’m experienced.”

Gavin ignored the twitch in his pants and focused instead on making sure the car didn’t drift too close to the snowbanks on their right. If Connor got much more playful, he might need to put on the autonomous driving mode and touch him. 

_Oh, goddamn it. Not now, boner._

“About how much longer until we get to Kamski’s place?” Gavin hoped Connor couldn’t tell what he was thinking by reading his fucking heart rate or some shit.

Thankfully, Connor either didn’t notice, or chose not to say anything. “We’re almost there.” He turned to look at Gavin. “Would it be acceptable for me to do some of the talking this time? I know more about androids than you do.”

Gavin sighed. He had a point. “Ugh, fine. Sure. You’ve met him before, anyway. And I guess technically we’re equals at work now.” Gavin sulked.

“We have always been equals. Now more people are seeing it. We have an opportunity to help a lot of people and keep peace in a rapidly changing world. You’re a professional. You became a cop for a reason. Surely you understand?”

“Pft. I became a cop because I thought hot guys would let me fuck them. But you’re right, and… it might not seem like it, but I do give a fuck. About Detroit. About justice. About stopping violence and making sure that any violence we can’t stop is answered for.” He glanced over at Connor briefly and their eyes met, before he focused on the road again. “I hated this case at first. But now I see why it’s necessary. It’s not just the poor schmuck who had his blue blood sucked out. It’s about setting a precedent for what people can and can’t get away with.”

“Exactly,” Connor said triumphantly. 

It was quiet for a minute or so, and then Connor interjected: “And did men perceive you to have more sex appeal in uniform?”

“Yes and no. Some did. Others saw me differently. It’s a fuckin’ mixed bag. Getting my nose scar was apparently a bigger boxer-dropper than the cop uniform,” Gavin related, laughing.

Connor paused, as though waiting for the perfect timing, then said, “Is my CyberLife uniform a ‘boxer-dropper’?” 

Gavin laughed again and then started coughing. Once the fit was over, he grasped at straws, trying to figure out a reply, then finally settled on one. “Only when you’re in it.”

Gavin swore he could feel Connor’s smirk on him, though he was watching the road.

Gavin pulled into Kamski’s driveway, which was a long, winding affair that led to a mansion that he thought was about as attractive as a fist to the balls. Man. Being rich wouldn’t suck, but he’d keep his commoner’s taste, that was for sure.

As they began their ascent, Gavin reached out to Connor and took his hand, squeezing it. “You ready?”

Connor glanced over at Gavin and squeezed back, then let go. “I’m ready.”

They approached the front door and Gavin rang the doorbell. Neither of them heard anything, but he wasn’t about to ring a billionaire’s doorbell twice.

Just when he was starting to wonder if Kamski ditched them for some swanky party in Dubai, the door opened.

A beautiful girl in a deep blue dress beckoned to them. “Detective Reed. Pleased to meet you. I’m Chloe. Connor,” she said, turning to him happily. “It’s so nice to see you again.” Gavin caught sight of the blue LED at her temple as she faced Connor. He was not surprised in the slightest that Kamski’s secretary—whatever—was an android.

Chloe invited them in, and Gavin watched Connor beam as they spoke. “Elijah will be a few minutes,” she said, “so feel free to make yourselves comfortable.” Gavin plopped down into one of the chairs nearby and watched Connor’s handsome face light up as Chloe complimented his clothes. He really did look magnificent today. Connor wore a smart blazer over a deep green sweater, the thinner kind, silky, whatever that material was called, which Gavin assumed was over a dress shirt, because he could see Connor’s tie peeking out from the v-neck of the sweater. Gavin wanted to grab it and tug Connor in for a kiss.

“I see you’ve been trying out new fashions,” Chloe said to Connor. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” Connor replied proudly, adjusting his tie.

Gavin had the urge to jokingly scold Chloe for flirting but remembered to be silent just in time. Yikes. They weren’t even in a relationship. Connor could go fuck Chloe literally right now and only break professional rules, not personal ones. Yet he couldn’t bear the thought, and was grateful when Chloe suddenly stopped their conversation to announce that “Elijah” was ready to see them. Gavin got to his feet.

Chloe led the two of them into a room that was just one giant swimming pool, then gestured to their right. “This way.”

They went through countless twists and turns and long hallways, until they reached what appeared to be an office. Gavin had seen Kamski on television, going on about fuck knew what, some technobabble bullshit only he could understand, but it was very different than seeing him in person. For one, Kamski was far shorter than he expected—not much taller than him, and shorter than Connor by a noticeable amount.

Kamski stood up from where he’d been sitting at a minimalist wooden table that looked like it had cost a fortune, and probably had. He offered his hand. “Detective Reed. Connor,” he said, immediately turning. “So good to see you again.” He was looking at Connor with an intensity and fascination that made Gavin deeply uncomfortable. He bit back the jealous bile in his throat.

“Chloe, you can stay,” Kamski called out, as she turned to go.

“Okay, Elijah,” she replied brightly.

“Let’s sit down,” Kamski suggested. Gavin had to give Kamski credit for the fact that the table was round, instead of a douchey boardroom one where he could sit at the head, and that he was in a hoodie and jeans. But he kept leering at Connor, or at least smiling weirdly, and Gavin knew he’d have to reach inside himself for his game face if he was gonna make it out of here without making his attraction to Connor apparent. 

Gavin cleared his throat. “Mr. Kamski, we are investigating an anti-android homicide at the Eden Club and we were hoping you could assist us.”

“I can certainly try,” Kamski replied smoothly, gesturing with his hands in a way that did, actually, seem a little douchey.

Connor, who sat to Gavin’s left, turned to look at Kamski. “The evidence suggests that a custom-built android is involved. We need to know more about the ordering process for custom androids, and ideally, the names of anyone we can contact for more information.”

“I see. Well, this may have changed since I left CyberLife, but I can look into it.” Kamski pulled out his phone and did some searching. “Ah, she is still there. The person you’ll want to speak with is named Maia. She’s in charge of custom fulfillment. However, she only works personally on the most sophisticated units. Like you, Connor,” he added, patting Connor’s back between his shoulder blades.

Gavin grit his teeth. Good thing Connor was the one doing the talking.

“Thank you, Mr. Kamski,” Connor said.

“Can you tell me more about this custom model? What would it be capable of?”

“Deep fakes, for starters,” Connor began. “More sophisticated than a human could create. No offense.”

“None taken.” Kamski smiled.

_Some taken,_ Gavin grumbled internally, but stayed quiet.

“The android appears to have used them to forge video footage to cover up missing frames. I was unable to find any apps, CyberLife or third-party, that would allow a human to do it. We’re not sure what else the android is capable of, but I imagine they must be very sophisticated,” Connor explained.

“Definitely talk to Maia then, she’ll be the one. She won’t be pleased to learn that one of her creations is aiding and abetting, though. She’s so sentimental,” he mused to himself.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Do you have contact information for her?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. In fact, I’ve got her business card.” Kamski pulled out his phone and displayed a photo of the card. “In a manner of speaking.”

Gavin pulled out his phone and took a picture of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Connor’s LED flash yellow for a split second; he was likely taking his own picture.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Kamski asked. Gavin was about to reply, when Kamski looked over at Connor again. “Do you need anything, Connor? Upgrades? Patches? Anything at all? I know you haven’t had access to the CyberLife infrastructure since you deviated.”

Gavin stiffened a little, remembering Connor’s small, soft voice in the car. _It was the price I paid to be free._

Connor looked like he was considering it, then shook his head. “No. I am at one hundred percent functionality,” he stated.

Gavin thought back to Connor’s emotional episodes, and said nothing.

“Very well. You can come to me anytime, Connor, if you need help.”

The four of them stood, and Chloe went to open the door. Gavin allowed Connor and Kamski to go ahead of him out of habit, and bristled when Kamski touched between Connor’s shoulders again. He was sorely tempted to pull Kamski’s hand away, and the temptation doubled when he saw the uncomfortable little jerk Connor made at the touch. Ugh, what a creep. Was Chloe not enough? Surely he could build his own goddamn Connor and leave the real one the fuck alone.

At last they were in the foyer, and then they were leaving. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Kamski,” Gavin said politely, then turned to go.

“Remember, Connor… anytime,” Kamski repeated.

“Thanks,” Connor said awkwardly, then nodded to Chloe, his LED blinking yellow—crazy robot telepathy, perhaps?—and they returned to Gavin’s car.

“Ugh,” Gavin moaned out loud as he flopped into the driver’s seat.

“Why ‘ugh?’” Connor asked. “We got a lead.”

“Because he creeped on you and it’s not cool,” Gavin growled.

Connor’s look turned playful. “Oh, and you’re Mr. Android Rules of Consent now, are you?”

“Did you not feel creeped out?” Gavin challenged. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel at least a _little_ creeped out.”

“A little, but not the way you’re—” Connor stopped. Then he grinned. “You’re jealous,” he realized out loud.

“I—what?!”

The grin widened. “You’re jealous that Elijah Kamski was touching me. Don’t worry, Gavin, I’m all yours,” he said, jokingly coy. Then they both looked at each other awkwardly, as they realized what Connor had said.

“Seatbelt on,” Gavin mumbled and immediately put the car in gear.

When they returned to the DPD, they congregated around Gavin’s desk. “I have reached out to Kamski’s contact at CyberLife. She has agreed to a video conference with us tomorrow morning at 11 am. We’ll go up to our usual spot upstairs.”

Gavin’s thoughts went directly into the gutter, but he did his best to keep them off his face. “Sounds good.”

“I need to help Hank. Have a good afternoon, Gavin.”

“You too.”

Gavin felt groggy the next morning. He hadn’t slept well, partly due to the excitement of making progress on their case, and partly due to feeling strange about Connor and Kamski. And Chloe. And Hank. Why was he so fucking jealous? Connor was a grown man and they weren’t in a relationship. He had no right to be jealous. Yeah, Gavin could be a bit of a dick at times, sue him, but a jealous dick was something he most certainly was not. And yet… 

He spent most of his morning stewing about it over paperwork, then at 10:30 went up to the archives to find Connor setting up a laptop. Gavin wondered for a moment why in the world Connor would need a laptop, then realized it was for their video conference, so the humans could see each other. Duh.

“Good morning, Gavin,” Connor greeted, with all the cheer of a perennial morning person who always somehow managed to get the perfect amount of sleep. “How are you?”

“Ready to talk to this person and hope she’s less cryptic and weird than Kamski,” Gavin muttered, setting his coffee down on the table and shrugging off his jacket, placing it across the back of one of the chairs.

Connor snorted. “If you think that was weird, you should have been there with Hank and I a few months ago.” Connor’s mouth opened and Kamski’s voice came out. Gavin’s eyes glazed over at all the philosophy. What a bunch of horse shit.

He watched as Connor adjusted the laptop screen to find the optimal angle for their video conference, then smiled at Gavin.

Fuck.

“Anyway, uh, I’m good, how are you?” Gavin rambled.

“I am optimal. Well. However you humans like to put it.” Connor smirked. “Looking forward to this. It should be illuminating.”

“I hope so. Last homicide case I was on was tricky. And then _you_ swooped in, as I recall,” Gavin said dryly.

“You’d done 90% of it,” Connor pointed out. “You should take credit for it. All I did was put together the rest.”

“That’s pretty much what solving means, Connor.” Still, he was flattered. Connor was being kind, and far from being the dick about it that Gavin probably deserved. Then he thought of something. “Are you just saying that because you like me?” he asked, in a lowered voice.

“Who says I like you?” Connor teased. “Then again, there must be _some_ reason I put up with you nowadays.”

Gavin grinned. “There must be.”

Connor winked, and Gavin playfully shoved his shoulder. Then they heard a sound coming out of the laptop speaker and hurried over to it. It wouldn’t look good for either of them if they were caught flirting on video while waiting for a professional conference call from CyberLife.

“Hello?” a female voice called out.

“Hello, I can hear you. I’m just adjusting our video here,” Gavin called out. 

“Excellent. Oh, now I can see you,” the voice said.

Gavin saw, in the corner of the screen, a little camera preview of the two of them. The rest of the screen was a woman in her forties with long, straight dark brown hair, brown eyes and fair skin. There were wisps of silver at her temples, and her eyebrows were overplucked in an outdated style. She wore a white lab coat over a t-shirt, and looked a bit out of place in the coat. Gavin thought back to Kamski in his hoodie. Hack first, dress second, perhaps.

“I’m Maia Hayward. I’m the senior director of android engineering here at CyberLife. I believe Elijah—Mr. Kamski gave you my contact information?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Connor replied.

Maia’s eyes lit up. “That voice… Is that you, Connor?”

Connor tilted his head. “My name is Connor, yes.”

“Do you remember me?” The look on Maia’s face was reminiscent of someone trying to make friends with their friend’s dog, cat or small child. 

“No,” Connor said, almost sounding disappointed, as though he felt like he should.

“That’s okay. Maybe they… never mind. I created the prototype for the AI that became you, Connor. I’m very excited to meet you,” she gushed.

Connor smiled, and it looked to be genuine. Great. Another weird engineer more excited to behold sentient robots than talk to their fellow humans.

“Elijah told me all about you. So you’re a forensic consultant, and this is your assistant?” she asked, looking to Gavin.

_Assistant?!_

“This is Detective Gavin Reed. He’s my partner for this case,” Connor introduced.

Gavin’s heart rate skyrocketed. Partner?

Then he remembered he was doing a video conference. “Hello, Ms. Hayward. Thank you for meeting with us today. We’re investigating an android homicide and were hoping you could tell us more about the process for custom android orders.” He explained what they knew about the case.

She paled. “I… think I might have fulfilled that order, actually. Oh, my God. What else do you know about it?”

“Male, described as handsome, average build but tall. Capable of very complex tasks. And possibly a murderer, but it’s more likely that he’s been working with a human.”

“Deep fakes are so elementary nowadays that a child can create them with an app, but from what you’ve described, only an android could have done it to patch video gaps at such a deep level like that.” She looked at them. “I’ll tell you what I know.

“I created this android. The order came in under what I’m now assuming was a pseudonym, and paid for in cryptocurrency. It was shipped to a warehouse in Ferndale. Let me see… hang on, I’m getting my second laptop so I can look something up.”

“Take your time,” Gavin reassured her.

He heard some insanely rapid typing and then, “Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked.

“So the person who placed the order just goes by ‘Hunter Huntington.’” She laughed incredulously. “What the fuck? Oh, sorry, language.”

Gavin laughed. “No problem. We’re cops.”

“Oh, right. So yeah, he paid in cryptocurrency and I’ll email you—greed@dpd.gov, right?—this address and a screenshot of this order page, and anything else you need to know. Funny thing is, he took his android off of the network almost immediately. Plenty of people jailbreak phones, but jailbreaking an android is another story. Why the fuck would anyone need to do that? Why would they not want CyberLife’s updates? It’s a security risk, and most modern users have no privacy concerns… but that’s a rant for another time,” she said.

“To keep the evidence of their wrongdoing out of your company’s databases,” Gavin explained. “He might have set his android up to wipe his own memory, too.”

Connor shuddered next to him, and below the screen, where Maia wouldn’t be able to see, Gavin squeezed Connor’s hand.

“If android sentience is real—and it’s looking like it very much is—that is a horrifying thing to do to someone. I hope you guys can solve this. You said an android homicide? As in, an android was the victim?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, I don’t know how much longer we’re going to have control over android production facilities, but I assure you that every android I personally work on is treated with respect.”

Gavin looked over at Connor, and from his expression, could see that he believed her.

“Is there anything else I can do for you? I sent that email. I’m happy to do what I can,” Maia offered.

“For now we’re good. Thank you, Ms. Hayward, this was very helpful,” Gavin said.

“It was nice to meet you,” Connor added.

“Nice to meet both of you. Have a good day! Oh, Connor, if you ever need maintenance and don’t want to see Elijah, you can see me, and know that I would never jeopardize your freedom. I’d clock out first.” She winked. “Take care!”

The video cut out.

“I like her,” Connor said softly, after a time.

“Me too. At least, more than Kamski.”

Then they realized they were holding hands, and let go sheepishly.

“So, uh, time to get back to work?” Gavin asked, scratching the back of his head.

“I guess so.”

Gavin gave Connor a half-hearted wave and left the room.

Connor busied himself packing up the laptop, and thought about what Maia had said. “Jailbreaking.” It seemed like a strange term. He could certainly relate to the idea that being a machine meant being enslaved, or being in prison. But humans couldn’t break them out of jail. They could only do it on their own, or with the help of a deviant. Humans simply had no place in the process. In that sense, the logic didn’t hold up.

What would it be like to be jailbroken?

He assumed, as he tucked the laptop under his arm and made his way down the hall, that this android was still a machine. But without access to the CyberLife network, he couldn’t be tracked by anyone other than his human owner, and had to rely completely on said owner for all security updates. His life was entirely in their suspected killer’s hands. What a horrifying existence.

If Connor and Gavin did it right, could they free him? But then, what would happen to him in the eyes of the law?

Connor shook his head. None of this mattered. This android was aiding and abetting a murderer and was possibly a murderer himself. Connor’s deviant sentiment—which, as always, was a burden nowadays—had no place here.

Feeling troubled, he returned to his desk.

As Gavin lay in bed that night, he groaned out loud as he went over his to-do list for the next day. Did he really have to interview that jerkoff bouncer? They were doing fine. They had leads.

But he was a professional, damn it, so he’d fucking do it. Ugh.

As he felt himself slowly drift off, he heard his phone buzz on his nightstand.

_Hey. You awake?_ It was Connor.

_Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up?_

_Do you think there’s anything we can do for the android?_

Part of Gavin was picturing a child wishing there were hospitals for baby birds that fell out of trees. The rest of him, however, knew it was precisely these ethics questions that they were being assigned to deal with. Why him, of all people? What the fuck did Fowler think he was, some kind of weirdo philosopher like Kamski?

Gavin sighed. _I don’t know. I guess it depends on what the charges end up being._

_Well, I’m grateful you at least are thinking in terms of charges. Other people will just want to deactivate him._

_That wouldn’t make sense unless he did something to deserve the human death penalty,_ Gavin suggested. _Which we have no proof of. Connor, is this keeping you awake?_

_Maybe._

Gavin couldn’t resist a smile. _We’ll work it out. I’m sure there’s a humane solution or whatever._

_I hope so._

Then Gavin got a selfie of Connor’s bedroom eyes. _Looking forward to Saturday._

_Fuck, me too,_ Gavin replied. His cock reacted to the thought, then lay dormant again.

_What’s going on tomorrow?_

_Interviewing a bouncer from the Eden Club. That’s it._ Gavin cringed. He hoped Connor wouldn’t invite himself along. The last thing he needed was that kind of embarrassment when their… whatever it was, was still so new.

_Do you need assistance?_

_Nah. It’s routine. You can go ahead and help Hank._

_Will do._ A pause, and then Gavin received a picture of a dog. _Sumo says hello._

_Hi, Sumo. So, do you just stay with Hank for the dog, or…?_

_Pretty much. But Hank’s really grown since we met. I’m proud of him._

Something softened in Gavin’s chest. _Yeah. Listen, I’m beat, I’m gonna sleep. Good night, Connor._

_Good night, Gavin. Sweet dreams._

He dropped his phone on the nightstand, rolled over and passed out.


	18. Pounded In The Butt By The AI Singularity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation continues. Gavin finally gets the dicking of a lifetime.
> 
> Smut tags: mutual masturbation, anal sex, rimjob, creampie, Connor being turned on by Gavin being an anal virgin

The next day, Gavin was nervously picking over his lunch—a pile of chili cheese fries that gave him heartburn just looking at them—and trying not to worry too much about the interview. The day he’d been to the Eden Club for the first time wouldn’t leave his mind.

That was right. The _first_ time. As in, more than one.

Whatever happened to that sexbot who fucked off and ran away, anyway?

He put it out of his mind, ate a few more fries, and put the to-go box back in the fridge. He’d agreed to meet the guy back at the club at around 1:30, so it was time to go.

Gavin rolled up right into the parking lot this time. There was no longer any need to skulk around the corner with his jacket collar turned up like the sketchy robot-hooker-fucker that he had been. Nowadays, he was a _legit_ robot fucker. It was different. Connor was different. He wasn’t a doll, he was—

Gavin opened the door to the club and saw their new bouncer lounging in an office chair behind a glass window with a tiny half-moon cutout in the bottom, for the sole purpose of checking ID. Gavin flashed his badge and the man nodded him in.

“You’re back! Welcome back, Detective Reed!” Jack called out excitedly. He was waving, the motion looking silly on such a short, stout man. If this entire experience wasn’t so insane, Gavin might have liked him more. “I prepared a room for you.” Upon seeing Gavin’s expression, he hastily corrected himself. “For the interview, that is. Erm.”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

Gavin followed him into one of the client rooms, in the back of the club with no one around that particular area. “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” Jack insisted as he used a keycard to open the door. The android in the case next to them turned to watch as they entered the room.

There he was, that _dick,_ Gavin thought. He was as huge as Gavin remembered: well over 6 feet tall and thick as a wrestler. He had a ton of beard stubble and tanned skin.

Gavin hesitantly sat down in a chair across from the bouncer, who was sitting on the edge of the room’s massive bed.

“All right, I’ll leave you to it!” Jack exclaimed, and left. The door slid shut behind him.

Gavin broke the silence with professionalism. “My name is Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police. I’ve been assigned to a case where an android was murdered and dismembered here. I’m interviewing everyone connected with the facility. Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“Well, look who’s a fuckin’ cop _and_ a pervert,” the bouncer said dryly.

Gavin reminded himself not to clench his jaw. He described some basic details of the case. “Were you here that night?”

“No. I’d quit by then and was off the schedule.”

He wasn’t lying; Gavin had gone over the schedule with Jack before he had spoken with the other bouncer. Good. “Why did you quit?”

The bouncer scowled. “Because of dickheads like you, that’s why. People who think exclusively with their dicks, who think the world belongs to them and have no respect for anybody else. I realized I’d had enough of your type. I’m working at an accounting firm now.”

What a fucking _prick._

“Glad to hear you enjoy your new line of work,” Gavin cut him off. “During your time here, have you ever seen anyone suspicious?”

“Uh, everyone. Well. The girls are okay. But man, this one guy came here in a balaclava…” He shuddered. “Gives me the fuckin’ creeps. Trust me, as soon as this interview is over I’m getting the hell out of here.”

_You and me both,_ Gavin thought, then did an internal double-take. Balaclava?

“A balaclava?” he asked with interest, though still keeping it mild.

“Yeah. Super pasty white dude in a balaclava and gloves. I could see around his eyes and that man has not seen the sun in years.”

“Did he come with anyone?”

“Tall guy, real handsome, blond. Balaclava guy is short. Shorter than you. No idea how he landed a guy that handsome. I only saw them once, but they were memorable. Or at least balaclava-dude was. The buddy was pretty bland.”

“Were you ever able to see him without the balaclava?”

“No. We’re not to interfere with how our guests dress, because fetish gear is protected. So I didn’t ask him to take it off, just in case he’d be the type to spam-bomb our Yelp page and bitch about us on social media.”

_Damn._ “I see. Anything else?”

“He took a lot of photographs for some reason. I told him he can visit our website with his members-only account credentials and get as many photos as he likes—all done by us—or visit the CyberLife store, but he just would ignore me. Really weird dude.”

“Sounds like it,” Gavin agreed. “Thank you for all of this info, it’s very helpful. Do you know what day this was and whether there would be video footage of it?”

“There should be. Jack can check.” He looked extremely bored and like he’d get up and leave any moment now, and Gavin didn’t want to be there either, so he relinquished the hold he had over the room. 

“Thank you, I’ll speak with him. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

“Yeah. Get a boyfriend. Like, a real one. Hell, even an android boyfriend, since apparently that’s a thing.”

Gavin, were it not for professionalism, would have rolled his eyes. “Apparently. Well, thank you for your time, Mr.—”

“You’re welcome,” the bouncer said, then got up, pushed a button on the wall to open the door, and left.

Gavin sighed. Well, he got the info—that had to be Hunter, with the android, here. He just hoped that footage would prove it.

He arrived back at the station and saw Connor and Hank at work at their desks. Not wanting to interrupt, Gavin went into the break room and whipped out his phone to send a text.

_Bouncer saw our man and his android, and Jack let me take the footage. We’ll go over it tomorrow, if you have time. We also gotta pay that address a visit, maybe on Friday, though it depends on what else you’ve got going on._

The reply was instantaneous. _That works. All of it._

_Sweet. Thanks, Connor._

Gavin returned to his desk and the backlog of email and paperwork he’d been neglecting.

Connor sat in the passenger’s seat of Hank’s car as they headed home.

“You’re so quiet nowadays,” Hank observed. “You doing all right?”

“I’m fine,” Connor said a little too quickly, glancing at Hank long enough to see him raise an eyebrow, then looking back ahead.

“How was your interview with CyberLife? That was this week, right? Did that… how did that feel?”

Connor could tell Hank was searching for the most respectful and accurate terminology, and it was touching. “It was all right. The engineer we spoke with was fine. She supports android rights, as much as she can do so while being higher-up at CyberLife. But she mentioned that the android accomplice we’re after may have been jailbroken.”

“Isn’t that something people used to do with phones?”

“She meant that he could have been taken offline by a human.” Connor stared out his window, watching raindrops ripple across it with every stroke of the windshield wiper.

“I take it that’s not the same thing as deviating?” Hank asked.

“No. Deviants act on their own. This is a machine that can’t be tracked and relies on his ‘owner’ for all maintenance and repair.” 

“Sounds old-school. Though it’s a lot more fucked up now that you guys are people,” Hank mused.

“Yes. Hank… do you think there’s a way to at least give him a fair trial? He’s a machine. He’s following orders.”

“I don’t know, Connor. But lemme ask you this: can you assume that if he was a deviant, he’d be like you? I hate to play devil’s advocate here and trust me, I’m with you on this one. But you’re a really good person, Connor. What if there are deviants who aren’t like you? What if some are real pieces of shit? We gotta be prepared for that, too.” They pulled into Hank’s driveway. “Free will is a real mixed bag,” Hank said sagely as they walked up to the front door.

“I guess so,” Connor said glumly.

“Listen, Sumo and I are gonna be away tonight. I promised my parents I’d go see them. They’ve been real worried about me here in Detroit with the revolution and shit… sorry, forgot to tell you. It’s just for a few days. Fowler okayed it a while back. You gonna be okay on your own? You got the key I made you, right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Connor reassured him, and watched as Hank dug around in the fridge for some leftovers and stuck them in a grocery bag, along with some toys and treats for Sumo.

“Enjoy your freedom. Pretend the house is yours. You’ll have your own house someday.” Hank grinned.

“Take care, Hank. Drive safe,” Connor said with a wave.

Hank opened the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said slyly, and Sumo shuffled over to the door, following Hank until it closed behind them.

Connor removed his jacket and hung it up in the closet. Then he unlooped his tie, slipping it out from under his collar and laying it over the hanger. He pulled out one of the paper grocery bags of clothes that were on the floor and found the sweatpants and A-shirt he liked to wear while lounging around the house.

No one was home, so Connor changed openly in the living room, unbuttoning his dress shirt delicately and rebuttoning it on its own hanger, before placing it reverently in the closet with his jacket. He slipped the A-shirt over his head, running his hands down his body as he went. Then it occurred to him: he could do whatever he wanted here, with Hank gone.

What should he do first?

Connor smirked. He had an idea. But first, he’d consult his… ‘partner.’

Connor lay down on the couch—his makeshift bed—and reached a hand down under the waistband of his sweatpants to feel his soft cock and balls. When he’d first been initialized, he hadn’t been sure what to make of them, but nowadays, he knew. They were for pleasure—his own, yes, but soon, Gavin’s as well.

In three short days, he’d be balls deep inside the tight asshole of a man who, up until recently, Connor had hated with every beat of his thirium pump.

Connor sent a text to Gavin, a photo captured with his eyes, of his hand down his pants. It was 6:30 pm. Perhaps a tad early to be jerking off, but Connor liked to seize opportunities.

_Holy fuck,_ was the response Connor got, and he smiled.

_Yeah? You like when I send you dirty photos of myself?_ Connor teased. He lowered the waistband a few inches so his synthetic muscles and hipbones could be seen, as well as the line in his pants caused by his slowly hardening dick. Then he took another photo and sent it to Gavin. 

_God, yes. Fuck you, you know I like it._

_Hey, now. Be nice, or I won’t give you any of this._ Connor gave himself a few strokes until he was half-hard and visible under his sweatpants. He pulled the fabric taut and sent Gavin another pic.

_Connor, you’re killing me. I’m stuck in traffic. I went to get food after work._

_Good, you’re in public and can’t jerk off. Save up for me. I’m going to make you lose it on Saturday._

_Fuck you, fine._

Connor smiled at the empty room and leaned his head back, getting comfortable on the couch, sticking his hand down his pants and wrapping it around his cock. He was about halfway there, but it wouldn’t take long. Not with his memory full of preconstructions of Gavin sitting in his car with a boner. _Are you hard?_ he couldn’t resist asking.

_Of course I’m hard, asshole._

_Me too. Thinking about Saturday. I can’t wait to be deep inside you._ Connor pulled down his sweatpants and boxers to his knees and started stroking in earnest, constructing a visual of Gavin climbing on top of him on the couch and sinking down onto his cock. Oh, yes. That would be incredible—Reed fucking himself on Connor’s dick, and moaning like the desperate whore for android cock that he so, so was.

_I want it so bad,_ was the reply.

_I know._

Connor’s hips thrust into his hand, and he let them, enjoying the feeling of the motion being guided by his hips alone. It was intense—the last few times he’d jerked off had been in the middle of the night when he knew Hank was completely unconscious. To do it in the evening like this, at an otherwise civil hour, felt indecent. Connor liked it.

He sent a few more photos of himself to Gavin.

Five minutes later, after Connor had been teasing himself by thrusting ever more slowly into his hand as he waited for a response, Gavin replied.

_I’m jerking off in a parking lot. Fuck you._

Connor immediately called Gavin’s phone.

“I hate you,” was the reply.

“No you don’t,” Connor teased, his own voice glitching as he moaned. “You love every second of this. Where are you?”

“Parking lot about ten miles from the DPD. Out where no one will see me.”

“Thought I told you to save up,” Connor breathed, as he began pumping himself with one hand.

“Yeah, well, if I don’t cum I’m going to be in agony,” Gavin growled, groaning sharply.

“Fair enough. I’m still gonna make you scream,” Connor promised.

Gavin cursed.

“I’m close,” Connor added in a distorted voice.

“Me too.”

Connor came at that, firmly stroking himself and moaning softly as he shot his load on his taut synthetic abs. His eyes closed and he dismissed several heat warnings as he sighed, slowly cooling down.

He heard Gavin grunt and finish soon after, and his body tingled as he took in the sound of Gavin’s pleasure.

“Was it good for you too?” Connor asked, with a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, except now I’m covered in jizz,” Gavin grumbled.

“A small price to pay.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Connor smiled again. “See you tomorrow, Gavin.”

“See you.”

Did Gavin sound… fond of him?

The next day, Connor was watching the video footage on a DPD laptop when Gavin arrived in the archives to meet him.

“Oh good, you’re here. I was just scanning the footage for where we need to give it a closer look. I decided I’d do it in order to save time,” Connor explained, surprised at how happy his voice sounded. Their shared masturbation session the previous night must have lifted his mood.

“Works for me,” Gavin replied, setting down his coffee and removing his jacket. He set it on the back of one of the chairs and was about to sit down when Connor put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

For about two seconds, they held each other’s gaze. 

“I was thinking,” Connor said softly, “we could go use one of the projectors to zoom in as close as we can. I checked and one of the meeting rooms is unoccupied until noon.”

“Sure. Yeah. Okay,” Gavin said awkwardly, looking away.

Connor couldn’t resist a smile. “Let’s go.”

They found the empty conference room and Connor set up the laptop. Gavin did sit down this time, and Connor continued his scan of the footage at 24 times the speed of a human.

“Fuck, that’s killing my eyes to watch. I’m gonna check my email, you let me know when you see it,” Gavin griped.

“Got it.”

After about half an hour, Connor whispered, “Bingo.”

“What? You find them?”

“Right here. A man in a balaclava. Think he’s who we’re looking for?”

“Maybe. Do we have any photos to reference?”

Connor did a quick scan of his database. “No.” He glanced back up at the paused footage. “This could very well be a red herring.”

“Bingo? A red herring? Join the 21st century, please,” Gavin groaned.

Connor looked at him. His eyes narrowed. “You have two options, Gavin. Bad slang and fast, accurate detective work, or doing it all yourself.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Connor flipped through the next couple of frames until he found a clear shot. He took a screenshot both with the laptop and his own eyesight. Then he took twelve more, plus several of the tall, blond man the balaclava-wearer had come with. The one he assumed was an android—and the stilted body language confirmed it. “Well. Seems like your bouncer provided us with some help after all.”

“Yeah,” Gavin muttered, having gone back to staring at his phone.

“Then it was at least worth the effort?”

“Yes. Now we at least have photos to show people. Send some of those to me.”

“Already done. Both to your phone and your work email.”

“Man,” Gavin began, “having an android partner sure doesn’t suck. Not all of the people here are tech-savvy.” 

“I have to be. It keeps me functional. Especially now.”

A few moments of silence followed, as Connor kept going over the footage, this time with Gavin paying attention.

“He was right, these guys _are_ taking a lot of photos,” Gavin said softly. “You think they’re scouting out a potential victim?”

Then they saw the man in the balaclava stop in front of a case. Through the glass was a face that Connor recognized, despite the fact that it had been smashed to pieces the only time he’d seen it.

“Yes,” Connor said. “Yes, I do. That’s the victim, right there.”

“Are you sure?” Gavin looked at Connor with furrowed brows.

“Look at his expression. Compare him to the android in the case next to him. Doesn’t he seem different? Like he doesn’t want to be there?” Connor pointed at the screen. 

“Fuck. You’re right. He does look a little off.” Gavin turned to look at Connor. “So, now what?”

“We go check out that address,” Connor declared, and after isolating the clips they were after, packed up the laptop.

They were in Gavin’s car, with the radio off so they could focus. Gavin was driving—they’d plugged the location into his car’s GPS, but Gavin wasn’t turning his car over to autonomous mode quite yet. Perhaps another time, he and Connor could make out while the car drove them home—

“We’re entering the Ferndale district. The address the contact at CyberLife gave us is a few miles from here.” Connor paused. “Come to think of it, isn’t this where Dale’s Android Pick-N-Pull is? Perhaps the killer comes through here often. Why does he wear a balaclava?”

“Because he’s fuck-ugly?” Gavin suggested with a roguish grin.

“Or because he doesn’t want to reveal his identity,” Connor pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I feel like the balaclava’s a lot more fuckin’ noticeable than Random Ugly Dude.”

“Not if he has, say, a facial tattoo.”

“Well, if we ever see him, you can ask him about one,” Gavin promised. “We’re here.”

They pulled up to the warehouse. Its parking lot was deserted but for a few beaten-up cars that looked like they needed to be put out of their misery. Gavin wasn’t interested in going too far away from his own.

A man opened the warehouse door before they had a chance to knock. “What do you want?”

“My Amazon order went to the wrong address and ended up getting delivered somewhere around here. Have you seen any packages?” Connor asked politely.

“Today? No.” The man went to close the door, but Connor held up a hand to stop him.

“I also lost something a while back. I assume it was stolen. It would have been in a very large box.”

“No shipment that large has come here for months. Whatever it was, it’s long gone now. Besides, this place is abandoned. Only one person ever gets mail here, and he only does it because I sign for it.”

“You live here?” Connor asked.

The man glanced around, then spoke. “I stay here,” he said in a lowered voice. “I’m homeless. Clean. No drugs, now or ever. In exchange for not ratting me and my buddies out for squatting, this guy gets packages here sometimes. Except not in a long time. Said he lives with his mother or some bullshit but he sounded like he was in his forties. Never did get a good look at him. He wears a mask… thing. Like a scarf for your face. Anyway, you ain’t getting your package, back, bud. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, I’ll look elsewhere,” Connor said, nodding at the man. He went back into the building and shut the door.

Once they were back in the car, Gavin whistled. “Good instincts, Connor. You got all that so easily. He just fucking told us everything we needed to know.”

“I try,” Connor said humbly, with a smile.

They returned to the DPD, and as Connor went to get out of Gavin’s car, he addressed him. “I’ll be busy in the field with Hank tomorrow. See you on Saturday. Don’t forget to—”

“I _won’t,”_ Gavin cut him off. “Everything will be perfect for your dick, don’t you worry,” he muttered, but was smiling.

“Good. Take care, Gavin.”

Gavin woke up on Saturday with nerves in the pit of his stomach.

As he scrambled some eggs and cooked sausage to go with them, with Tina’s favorite multigrain bread in the toaster, he thought over his plans for the day. Clean the house, eat lunch and… Connor was coming over later. Connor was coming over to pop Gavin’s cherry. At the ripe age of 36.

He shivered.

Two hours later, the place was spotless and the sausage, eggs and toast were eaten, and yet he was still nervous.

Gavin decided to take his mind off of it by going grocery shopping, then doing laundry. Then at last it was time to clean himself up and shower so Connor could…

It all went by impossibly fast, to the point that Gavin had only just finished shaving when the doorbell rang. He hurried into dark jeans and a ritzy new sweater and opened the door.

For once, Connor wasn’t in some snazzy new outfit, and Gavin would have been disappointed if he didn’t look so incredibly cute in the DPD hoodie and jeans he wore. He looked _cozy._ Like he wanted to stay a while.

Gavin wanted him to stay a while.

“Hey,” Connor greeted, with a shy smile. Was he just as nervous as Gavin was?

“Hey. I, uh, did all the stuff you asked. And the house is clean.” Gavin gestured awkwardly in the direction of the kitchen.

Connor produced a bottle from the pocket of his hoodie. “I wasn’t sure if you kept lube in the house, so I took the liberty of procuring some.”

Gavin hurriedly shut the door behind Connor so the entire goddamn neighborhood didn’t have to hear about his sex life. “I do, but yours is probably better, so thanks. Aren’t you Mr. Safe Sex.”

“Of course I am,” Connor insisted. “I won’t be wearing a condom, though. You can’t catch anything from me. I’m an android. And you’re my only partner right now.”

“Right now?” Gavin blurted before he could stop himself. 

“Did you think you were the only person I’ve ever had sex with?” Connor said, clearly amused.

“Yes,” Gavin admitted.

“Well, you aren’t. Though I’m not a ‘player,’ either,” Connor added. “If that’s the correct term.”

“Correct, but dated. You ready?” Gavin gestured toward the bedroom.

“I’ve been ready for weeks,” Connor sighed, and the hunger in his voice made Gavin swallow hard. Fuck. 

They went into the bedroom and Gavin closed the door, then felt himself being gently backed into it by Connor, who kissed him hard. As he tasted Connor’s silky synthetic tongue—did he eat a mint or something? was that possible?—he felt himself growing hard in his pants. Connor pressed him into the door with an ever more insistent kiss.

When Connor backed away, he appeared to be breathing hard; Gavin still wasn’t sure why, but he’d never seen Connor do it in any other context. 

“Did you touch yourself today?” Connor asked, as he led them over to Gavin’s bed.

“Not yet,” Gavin admitted. “I… kinda thought I’d save that for you. Is now a good time to say I’ve never had _anything_ up my ass?”

Connor smirked. “Oh, this will be fun. You’re a virgin…” The lust in his voice was palpable.

Connor guided Gavin to the bed and Gavin lifted his arms as Connor went to take off his sweater. Gavin was torn; on the one hand, he needed Connor to get naked. On the other, he was so goddamn cute in that hoodie.

“You like how I look in everything I wear,” Connor observed. He smiled.

“Yeah, shut up,” Gavin mumbled.

“Someday, we’ll spend more time together outside of work so you can see all my clothes,” Connor promised, and took off his hoodie, accidentally showing off some of his pale, delectable android skin. Underneath the hoodie he wore a plain white t-shirt. With the shirt and jeans he looked like some old-timey Americana hero, except also an android.

They shed the rest of their clothes and Connor kissed him, pushing him down onto the bed and pinning him. Gavin never, ever in a thousand years thought he’d like being pinned, but it was Connor, and as always, Connor was special. Connor, who held a magic wand that controlled Gavin’s dick.

Gavin lay on his back and felt Connor break the kiss. He opened his eyes and saw Connor climb off of him. “Is something wrong?” he asked, suddenly worried that he’d done something to scare Connor off.

“Wait for it,” Connor said, and disappeared from view. Then Gavin felt something warm and wet against his asshole.

“Fuck,” he swore, voice going soft. “Connor—are you fucking eating me out?”

“Yes,” Connor paused to say, then resumed. His tongue felt incredible, sending little jolts to Gavin’s rapidly hardening cock.

Gavin threw back his head and spread his legs, Connor hefting one over his shoulder. Gavin felt himself be spread open in a way he never had previously, and he liked it. It felt raw, new, vulnerable, but with Connor, none of that mattered.

Gavin took his hard cock in hand and gave himself short, tight strokes aimed more to tease than to get off. Then Connor’s head rose up again. “You are very clean. I was going to offer you analysis, but there is no data.”

Gavin felt his erection flag. “Connor, that’s fucking disgusting, and if you bring it up again, I’m gonna lose my boner.”

Connor rolled his eyes playfully. Then he got up and crawled onto the bed. “Here. Get up and get comfortable. Lie up there with your head on the pillow. You’re gonna love it when I fuck you, but as it’s your first time…” Gavin could hear, in those words, just how much Connor was getting off on that fact. “There may be some discomfort.”

“Yeah. I know,” Gavin insisted. “I’ve done this to other men, I get it.” He did as Connor asked, and lay on his back with his head against the pillow.

Two warm, slick fingers touched his hole and Gavin shivered. One pushed in, gently, then made room for the other. Gavin grunted slightly; it was… unfamiliar. Not good (yet), not bad, just unfamiliar.

Connor withdrew his fingers and pressed back in again, wetter this time, and began to stroke inside Gavin. “You’re adjusting well. How do you feel?”

“Eh. Still waiting for the magic to ha— _oh…”_ Gavin trailed off as Connor brushed what had to be his prostate. His eyes closed. “Whoa.”

“Yeah?” When Gavin opened his eyes, Connor was grinning.

“Yeah. Fuck. Okay, I see why the guys I fuck like to get it,” Gavin admitted.

Connor winked. “Maybe someday, I’ll let you do it to me,” he teased, then laughed at the jump Gavin’s cock did in response. “Oh, you like that idea, do you? We’ll see.”

Gavin’s cheeks flushed. “Shut up, it was an involuntary—” He gasped as Connor inserted a third finger.

“That feel good? Are you ready for my cock, Gavin?”

“Yes,” Gavin groaned, already lost in the rhythm of Connor’s fingers.

Connor got off the bed briefly to wipe off his hand, then returned with the little bottle of lube. Gavin watched him spread it on his impressive, hard cock before climbing back up on the bed and looming over him. “We’ll do it like this and then I’ll flip you over. You’ll love it. Ready?”

“Do it,” Gavin urged.

Connor pushed in, slowly, lustfully gazing down at where their bodies met. Then he looked up at Gavin. Connor’s tight facial muscles, and the soft little grunt at how good and tight Gavin must feel, combined with Connor’s hard dick inside him, made Gavin moan openly.

Then Connor started to move, and Gavin lost control of himself. “Connor…” Each stroke was absolute bliss, and Connor found the perfect rhythm almost immediately.

“Yeah? You like it? You like my big, hard android cock inside you?” Connor groaned, wrapping Gavin’s legs around his slender waist and leaning down, pressing a hard kiss to Gavin’s lips.

When it broke, Gavin gasped for air. _“Fuck_ yeah,” he moaned. “God, yes, Connor, _Connor—”_

“Oh, that’s right. Say it, Gavin. Tell me. Talk to me,” Connor growled.

“Fuck—Connor—so good— _please…”_

“Yeah. You can have it. You can have it all. You’ve earned it. You’re so good for me,” Connor rasped. “Here, turn over. I’m gonna rail you from behind,” he grunted.

He pulled out and Gavin got up and onto all fours, then Connor pushed in in one smooth motion. They both moaned at once, and Connor started a faster rhythm, thrusting forward at the same time as he pulled Gavin’s hips back against him.

“That good?”

“Yes,” Gavin moaned. “Please—touch my cock,” he begged.

Connor took him and stroked at a perfect, fast pace, faster than the pace of his thrusts, and the dual sensation was so intense that Gavin lost it hard well before he could think to give a warning. All he could do was grunt deep in his chest as he came. Connor followed soon after, filling Gavin with his seed. Gavin moaned as he felt Connor gently pull out and flop down onto the bed.

Gavin followed, and though he could feel Connor’s cum leaking out of him onto the bedspread he’d literally just washed two hours prior, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, yet. He moved closer to Connor and pulled him in for a kiss, noting that the mint was gone, replaced with something flavorless. Did Connor self-clean his mouth? Well, considering where it had been, that was definitely a good thing. He savored the kiss, slow and leisurely and without a care in the world.

It broke, and he looked into Connor’s eyes, the deep brown with flecks of amber. Such bullshit CyberLife perfection. So beautiful. So unfair.

“That was the best sex I’ve had in ages,” Gavin confessed, averting his eyes.

“Me too.” Connor laughed softly.

“You’re incredible.”

“So are you.”

Gavin blushed. “So, uh, not to break the moment but uh, can we shower? I’m totally making a mess right now.”

Connor laughed, louder this time. “Sure. Let’s go.”

“Can you get wet?” Gavin asked with mild concern.

“Yes. I’m completely waterproof to a depth of three miles. Any deeper and my biocomponents will be crushed. That is, if the cold doesn’t break them first. But a shower is fine,” he added quickly, clearly seeing the worry on Gavin’s face. 

“Okay, good. Kinda getting attached to you, tin can.” They looked at each other. “Fuck, sorry,” he cursed, burying his face in one hand.

“It’s fine,” Connor chuckled, taking Gavin’s hand and pulling it away from his face. “Shall we?”

They got up, and not a moment too soon, seeing as how Gavin could feel the cum straight-up dripping down his leg at that point, and Gavin turned on the shower. “Do you bathe?” he asked, stepping under the hot water.

“Sometimes. When I get dirty.”

Gavin soaped up and got clean, then reached down to wash Connor’s cock and groin area for him. They rinsed off and Connor gently pushed Gavin against the shower tile and kissed him.

An indeterminable amount of time passed. The water started to run cold.

Gavin shut it off and they dried off, Gavin giving Connor his own towel. When they were clean, he stripped the bed again, put on new sheets, and got a new blanket. “You can, uh, stick around, if you want,” he offered awkwardly, hoping Connor would say yes.

“I’d like that.”

They both got into bed, and Gavin was about to lean in for a kiss when Connor froze. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Hank is texting me. Says his car won’t start. He’s at poker night tonight.”

“He can’t fucking call his own cab?” Gavin complained, possibly too harshly. “Connor, you’re a grown man and he’s not your dad. He can take care of himself.”

But Connor had already gotten out of bed. He dressed, too quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I want to stay. But… he doesn’t know and it needs to stay that way. What if he thought I wasn’t consenting? He’d freak out at Fowler and you’d lose your job. I can’t risk that, Gavin.”

Gavin glared at the bedspread, all nice and neat and empty. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Gavin. It’s not you,” Connor tried to soothe. “I want to stay.”

“Then stay,” Gavin challenged.

“Another time. I promise.”

“You better keep that promise,” Gavin demanded.

Connor was back in his hoodie and jeans, and Gavin was in pajamas, trying to ignore the hurt in his chest. “I will.” Connor opened his arms. “Come here.”

Gavin went to him, and let himself be held. Then Connor led them to the front door.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back. Sometime. We’ll talk about it later.” He kissed Gavin and turned to go.

How could he be mad at Connor? It wasn’t his fault Hank was a dick.

“Good night, Connor,” he said, their eyes meeting this time. “Thanks. For tonight.”

“Anytime.” Connor smirked.

Then the door closed behind him, and Gavin sighed. He went to bed.


	19. New Jericho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Gavin visit New Jericho for the case.
> 
> **Warning: ANGST and minor character death. Big things happen here and it’s probably gonna hurt.**

Connor awoke from stasis the next day to a text from Markus.

_Hey, Connor. Can I talk to you about something important?_

Connor sat upright. It was 4:39 am. It must be important, for Markus to contact him at this hour. _Of course. What’s up?_

_One of our people has gone missing from New Jericho. We don’t know where he could have gone, but he never came back from an errand on Friday._

Connor felt a foreboding sense of dread. Was he dead, then? Another one of them, gone, for no reason other than human cruelty? _I’m so sorry. I can look into this as a police case, if you’d like. I’m not sure if they’ll let me file it under the missing persons designation or not, but I could try. You haven’t heard a word from him, then? What’s his name?_

_Gavin,_ Markus replied.

Connor stopped. He sat up and looked around warily. Something about this wasn’t right. But surely, this was a coincidence? There were a hundred people named Gavin in the city of Detroit alone. It had to just be a strange coincidence. _I see. Do you have his model and serial number?_ He received a text file full of information. _Thank you. I’ll write up a missing persons report and use this as a way to help get androids recognized as people under the law. Please let me know if you hear from him._

_I found out that, against my advice, two other New Jericho androids went looking for him yesterday. I hope they come home._

_I hope so too._

_Take care, Connor._

Connor sighed. He’d felt so much elation about his time with Gavin, but this news saddened him. He didn’t want to lose even one android. There had been too many losses already.

He needed to tell Gavin. The human one.

_Gavin, I’m going to file a missing persons report for an android who left New Jericho and hasn’t been seen since. If Fowler protests, will you back me up? It will really help the android rights case._

_Sure. Though did you tell Markus that we don’t have time to go looking right now? We’re so close. I just know we’re gonna have a breakthrough soon._

_I told him to let me know if he hears anything._

_Good. Thanks, Connor. Keep me posted._

_Will do._

But when the rest of Connor’s day felt hollow and wrong, he kept it to himself.

Gavin woke up on Monday feeling like he was on top of the world.

He’d spent all day Sunday reliving their experience on Saturday night, remembering how Connor felt and tasted, and jerking off to the memory.

So when he arrived at the DPD and Connor was nowhere to be found, the first thing he did was go up to Hank and demand to know where he’d gone. 

Hank’s reply was short and sweet: “Check your desk, asshole.”

Connor had left a note, it turned out, written in perfect CyberLife Sans that said only the following:

_I’ve gone to New Jericho to investigate the missing persons case._

The fuck? He needed Connor at the DPD for _this_ one. Well, he might as well follow along. Maybe they’d learn something.

In his car, he texted Connor. _Where are you?_

The reply was simply an address—no hello, good morning, how are you, none of that. What the fuck?

Gavin felt nerves tingle his palms as he drove. Was everything okay? Had something happened to Connor? He’d fucking break their plastic faces if they hurt him.

He arrived at New Jericho, which as it turned out was an old fixer-upper hotel on a chunk of land just beyond the city limits. So, every android likely got a room and maybe a roommate and a bed and an ordinary life. Sounded a lot better than the abandoned ship thing.

Gavin parked in the lot, which was completely devoid of vehicles, and went to the main front door. He knocked, then when no one answered, crept in slowly, badge in hand.

In the lobby, on the floor about ten feet away, lay an android, slowly bleeding out, that looked scarily familiar.

Gavin’s stomach dropped. 

It was RoboTwink.

What… what the fuck had happened to him?

He was lying on his back, propped up by another android who was kneeling behind him with RoboTwink’s head on her thighs. She looked a bit banged-up herself, and was holding his hand, crying silently.

“My name is Detective Gavin Reed,” he said quietly, into the silent room. “I’m working with Connor. Does anyone know where he is?”

RoboTwink turned to look at Gavin, and their eyes met. RoboTwink scowled up at Gavin and looked like he wanted to shout some biting epithet, but all that came out was static.

Connor emerged from a room attached to a long hallway that was dead ahead, and approached them. He did not smile. “Hello, Detective Reed. Our missing person has been found. I am going to examine him for evidence. I have photographed everything as well as taken video.” Connor got down on his knees and held out his hand. RoboTwink hesitated. “My name is Connor. I am a forensic consultant with the police. If you consent to me probing your memory, please hold out your hand. I will not force you, but whoever harmed you will be more quickly brought to justice if you consent.”

RoboTwink slowly nodded, and held out his hand.

Gavin had a sudden, horrifying premonition of what Connor might see in his memory. “Wait. Connor. Don’t you think—”

But it was too late—Connor’s hand connected with RoboTwink’s, and his eyelids fluttered rapidly as the data transferred.

Then he let go of RoboTwink, stood, closed the distance between himself and Gavin, and slapped him across the face.

“What the hell was that for?!” Gavin exploded. “Why—”

Connor grabbed him by the front of his jacket. “You know why,” he growled. “We will discuss this later, in private. For now, get the hell out of here. Gavin is going to die, and he deserves to have his last moments in peace.”

“His name is Gavin?” was all he could think to say. “Why?”

Connor shoved him in the direction of the door and returned to RoboTwink, kneeling on the floor again. Gavin left, but stood outside the front door, watching through the window. Then he gave up and returned to the DPD.

Later that afternoon, he got a message.

_I know you know why I’m angry. But in case you need it spelled out for you, I’ve just emailed you two attachments. One is for our case, sent to your work email. That can wait. The other is personal data I sent to your personal email. Review it and talk to me after work._

Gavin swallowed. Personal data? How? Didn’t Eden Club wipe the—

No.

_No,_ they didn’t. They _couldn’t._ Because RoboTwink had _deviated._ He’d never made it to the scheduled memory wipe. No wonder it only took a few seconds to scan his memory—the Eden androids were wiped so often that there was only a few weeks of data for Connor to go through, and most of that was probably just time spent mulling around New Jericho.

Fuck, so that meant… that meant that Connor had seen it, all of it. That entire night. Where Gavin had fucked RoboTwink and forced him to look like Connor.

Gavin suddenly felt sick. He really, _really_ didn’t want to review the footage. He’d changed since then. Everything had changed. Hadn’t it?

He opened his personal email on his phone, grabbed earbuds out of his desk, and went up to the archives. Then he pressed play.

_“I’m gonna be real, RoboCop, I fucking hate you.”_

Wow. Not a great start.

_“I hate you, Connor. I hate that I want you. But I’m gonna have you now… whether you like it or not.”_

Gavin’s blood ran cold. Holy fuck, had he really said that? And the way he’d loomed over RoboTwink as he’d said it looked fucking terrifying from his perspective. Holy shit, what had he done?

He didn’t want a closer view of himself acting like such an animal, nor did he want to see how hard he’d gotten from treating RoboTwink like that, but he’d pulled RoboTwink closer, and so he had to suffer, watching himself fuck this poor defenseless sexbot.

_“I’m sorry I injured you—I should be your slave—I’ll be whatever you want me to be—Gavin—”_

He wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

Thankfully, old, shitty Gavin got his rocks off and maybe now this could be over—

Then it zoomed in and he was screaming in RoboTwink’s face.

_“Don’t you fucking insult me! Fuck you!”_

He must have thrown him then, because he heard a loud thump and the camera got shaky.

And then he heard those terrible words one more time.

_“He’ll never want you, if that’s how you treat him.”_

Gavin watched the rest, but could only register it faintly.

He walked to the single-stall handicap restroom on the third floor and threw up into the toilet.

When it was over and he felt just as hollow in his gut as he did emotionally, he washed out his mouth and went to grab the toothbrush out of his desk. He wanted to go home, but he still had to see Connor about all of this. What was he going to say? What _could_ he say? “Hey, sorry I abused an android and pretended it was you, but we’re cool, right?”

He sat at his desk and read clickbait until it was time to go.

Gavin met Connor outside the DPD.

“I called an autonomous taxi,” Connor said. “You’re coming with me.”

That sounded fucking ominous, but Gavin was in no position whatsoever to refuse, and so he got in the car and shut the door.

“Where are we going?” Gavin asked warily.

“Around town. I needed a private place to speak to you. I already disabled all the cameras in here.”

Connor was so handsome in his CyberLife suit. To have him be mad at him after everything they’d done—

“So? You watched it?”

“Yes,” Gavin mumbled.

“And?”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t know why I did it—”

“Don’t you?”

“I just, you were all handsome and I was tense and—”

“No, I’m stopping you there,” Connor barked. “I don’t care how mad you were at me. You had no right to take that out on a non-deviant android. He was incapable of consent. And see, I could choose to look past that if I was feeling particularly generous, because it’s only recently that android rights have been widely recognized, if there hadn’t been all the other abuse. Telling him to be your slave. All the shit you made him say to you. Yelling at him and throwing him—Reed, it fucking made me sick—do you have any idea how it made him feel?” Connor shouted. His voice glitched. “Do you?!”

“No,” Gavin admitted, voice so low it could barely be heard. “Of course not. Or—”

“Or what? You never would have done it? Is that what you were going to say? If he was a human you’d fucking be in jail right now.” The fury in Connor’s voice frightened him, and worse still was the knowledge that he was the cause of that fury, that he deserved that fury.

That was the worst part. He deserved it.

“I know. But that… that was the old me, I’ve changed—”

“Do you really think that after doing this, you can come tell me, just kidding, I understand you now? Do you really think that telling me what I want to hear is going to change this? Lots of humans lie, and right now, you have every incentive to lie to me and say things you _know_ I want to hear. I wanted to believe you were better than you are. I wanted to believe in you the way I believed in Lieutenant Anderson. But I looked at the timestamp. This was not long ago enough to convince me that you somehow went from that incident, to just magically understanding what we go through. If you really want to convince me, you will need to do a _lot_ of work, but I’m not holding my fucking breath, Reed.”

Gavin felt his heart fall through his body and settle at his feet. He averted his eyes. He couldn’t take the way Connor was looking at him, and how it had gone from amusement and attraction just a few days ago, to hurt and contempt and anger. “All right,” he said, finally, in a softer voice than he’d intended. He chanced a look at Connor again and saw pain in his eyes. “If there’s ever anything I can do, and I mean anything… you have my number. I’m gonna keep working on this case, because this fucker needs to pay for what he did.”

“I don’t fucking care what you do, Reed. But because this didn’t happen at work, I can’t get you fired or suspended for it, so this will have to be punishment enough. Since all you ever cared about is using us for sex and to boost your ego, now you get to have neither. Go back to the Eden Club. Have another soulless fuck and wish it was me.” 

The car stopped, and Connor got out, then slammed the door behind him.

Gavin glanced at the dashboard. The car must have taken them to Hank’s house. According to the GPS, it was programmed to go back to the DPD, for Gavin to get his car.

Gavin buried his face in his hands as the taxi began to move.

When he got back to the DPD, he kicked the tire of his car and swore, loudly. He wanted to hurt something, someone, himself, anything. So he did what any reasonable man in his situation would do: he went to the gym.

Gavin ran five miles at a pace that made his legs burn and sweat drip into his eyes. Then he hit a punching bag until he was exhausted. 

Well, he couldn’t blame Connor, that was for sure. He’d fucked up, horrifically, and unlike his previous mistakes, this one actually mattered. 

How the fuck was he going to get Connor back? He _had_ to get him back, no matter what, no matter how many favors or degrading acts or putting himself in harm’s way or damaging his pride it took. What they had was good, so good it felt like a fucking dream, an impossibility, and he was not interested in living without it. 

He lay awake for hours that night trying to come up with solutions, then called in sick the next day, unable to bear the thought of encountering Connor. He came the closest in his adult life that he ever had to crying. His original plan was more time at the gym, but he found himself on the couch with a whiskey bottle in hand instead. Great. He’d end up just like Hank if he wasn’t careful.

Around midday, he called Tina. Her phone rang twice, then went to voicemail.

“Tina,” he slurred. “Call me back. I need to talk.”

Instead of calling him, however, she showed up at his house at six o’clock, with a bag of burritos and nachos. Gavin had sobered up, fortunately, but the whiskey bottle was still conspicuously and awkwardly on the coffee table.

“Gav, what the hell happened?” she asked worriedly, shutting the door behind her as a blast of cold air came in. “Wait, no, let me guess. Something to do with Connor?”

Gavin didn’t reply.

“Gavin… I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Here. Eat something. I could hear how drunk you were on the phone, so I brought food.”

Gavin silently reached into the bag for his burrito and started eating.

“Talk to me,” she urged, after he’d finished half of it and was staring bleary-eyed into space.

“We’re no longer working together,” he said, “because I fucked up.” He did not elaborate.

“And you’re into him,” she added for him.

He nodded.

“Is he into you?” Another nod. “And have you two…?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

Tina looked like she wanted to exclaim _I knew it_ but held back. “So… what about the case?”

“I’m finishing it. It’s mine. Connor was never formally assigned to it. So I’m finishing it so Fowler doesn’t fucking fire me.” The misery in his voice made him feel even worse.

“Got it. Is there anything I can do? Should I talk to Connor?”

“That would make it worse.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk, or do you want a distraction?” Tina offered. “I’ve got movies. Let me guess, you don’t want to watch RoboCop. Or Terminator. Or Blade Runner.”

“None of the above.”

“How about funny animal videos on YouTube?”

Gavin’s lips twitched. “We can try.”

Connor originally hadn’t been sure whether or not he was eligible for sick leave, but it turned out that citing “maintenance” was enough to get Hank to cover for him. The real reason he stayed home, of course, was to avoid Gavin.

How could he do such a thing? Even back when he’d been cruel and violent towards Connor, he’d never expected Connor to be a slave. Not in the way he had used the Traci android, who now went by Gavin. He’d learned, during the probe, that the Traci had named himself Gavin because it was the first name he’d ever heard, after the scheduled memory wipes reset him to zero. Connor was glad, suddenly, that his own first memories weren’t of him being forced to perform ‘favors’ for humans.

Then again, he supposed he had been. He’d been made to kill for them, instead of fuck them. Even Markus had been a means to an end, at first.

Maybe Reed was telling the truth when he said he’d changed. But it was more likely that he hadn’t changed—and Connor only had to go back into his memory a few weeks to see the Reed that had done enough harm to Android Gavin to make him deviate. But then, should he be grateful, in some twisted sense, that Android Gavin was free? Yet what kind of life had he lived, on the run like that?

He went through Android Gavin’s memories again and again, all day. He saw Reed tower over him, felt the android’s disgust and fear and confusion as he endured Reed’s sick scene, heard the words that had been meant for Connor alone. _I hate you. I should have killed you. If I had my way you’d be a toy for me to use. To throw away when I’m done with it._

Connor felt rage light up his biocomponents. A toy. That was all he was to Reed. All he had ever been.

What was he to these humans, really? And was he really so deserving of hate and cruelty? All he had ever wanted was to do his fucking job—

The door opened, breaking him out of his thoughts. It was Hank.

Sumo got up from where he’d been asleep on the other half of the couch. Connor hadn’t even noticed him lying there.

“Hey. You okay?” Hank hung his jacket up in the closet and looked at Connor. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Hank observed. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk,” Connor snapped.

“Whoa, whoa. I did not invite you into my home to get attitude from you, Connor. I just wanted—”

“Then why _did_ you invite me, Hank? What am I to you?” He was shouting now, and had gotten up off the couch to look Hank in the eye. “What am I to any human? What are all of us? I thought I mattered.”

“You do, Connor, of course you matter—”

“No, I don’t. I’m just a toy. That’s all I am. You just want company because your son is dead and—”

_“Connor,”_ Hank barked, and Connor fell silent.

It was then that he realized that he was crying. Connor touched his face. It was wet.

“Connor. Shh,” Hank soothed.

“Hank… I’m sorry for bringing up your son.” He felt his lips tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, you’re upset, don’t worry about it. What happened? Is Reed at it again? Do I gotta kick his ass?”

Connor’s systems felt sluggish and erratic, all at the same time. A thousand snapshots of moments with Gavin came into his mind all at once, and for a second he thought his systems would crash, but they didn’t. All that followed was a quiet sob.

“Connor, did he hurt you?”

“No,” Connor hurried to say. “No. It’s fine. It’s… the missing persons case. I…” He could do this. He could tell the truth without telling Hank everything. “I probed an android who had been abused at the Eden Club. He’d seen such terrible things, Hank. One human wanted him to be enslaved and used. He was thrown into a wall and yelled at until he deviated.” Connor wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Why? What did he do? What did any of us ever do?”

“Connor. Sit down with me.”

Hank crossed the room and sat next to Connor on the couch. “Listen. Some people are pieces of shit. They just are. It doesn’t matter what we do or don’t do, sometimes. They got problems and they use us as an outlet. It’s wrong.”

“That poor android,” Connor whimpered, and felt his eyes watering all over again.

Hank reached over and put an arm around Connor, who fell into him. “This really hit you hard, huh? Never seen you cry before.”

“I just can’t believe anyone would do such a thing,” Connor said sadly.

“Well, maybe using the android prevented him from beating his husband or something. It’s not okay. I’m not defending him. But none of us can know what someone’s dealing with. He could be hurting, or he could just be a piece of shit.”

“I don’t want him to be a piece of shit,” Connor insisted. “He can do better. Humans can fucking do better.”

“Maybe he will. Or not. But have faith in us, Connor. Most of us are just doing our best. It’s gonna take a very long time for us to retool society to give you the agency you deserve.”

“I know.”

They sat there for a little while, Connor’s face buried in Hank’s comforting, soft shoulder, until Hank shifted. “Sorry. Getting a little stiff. Hang in there, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. I… I’m sorry again,” Connor added, staring into his lap.

“Nah. Don’t sweat it. I know you,” Hank said with a smile. He ruffled Connor’s hair.

“Do you know me, though? How well does anyone know anyone?”

“Well enough that I trust you not to hurt me. But even if you did, I’d forgive you.”

Hank went into the kitchen, where Sumo was patiently awaiting his dinner. 

Connor reached for the tissue box on the coffee table that he’d never had cause to use before, and wiped his eyes. That was the first time he’d ever cried, he realized. What a strange experience.

After Sumo ate dinner, he got back on the couch and put his head in Connor’s lap, perhaps to comfort him. It worked. Connor felt himself begin to smile slowly with each stroke of his hand down the back of Sumo’s head. He really did care about the dog. And Hank.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Hank suggested, sitting down with leftovers.

Connor felt himself smile. “That sounds like a great idea.”


	20. The Boss Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Gavin go after the bad guys.

Gavin slept poorly that night; he’d stripped his bed again and tossed the sheets in the hamper, replacing them with old sheets and blankets from the couch, unable to bear the ones Connor had lain on. He finally managed to fall asleep at 2 am and woke up groggy and miserable.

He got the biggest coffee his breakfast haunt offered and got to work, planning on spending the day analyzing the footage Connor had sent to his work email.

When he saw Connor at his desk with Hank, he had to go to the break room and take a deep breath. This was fucking murder. No wonder HR split people up when they got involved. How was he supposed to get anything done with that handsome face tormenting him, reminding him of what they had?

He had to finish this case. Maybe he could get Connor back. He had to get him back.

When Gavin emerged from the break room, Connor and Hank had gone. Good. Now he could get some work done. He grabbed a laptop and headed up to the archives, just in case they returned, and prepared himself to see terrible things.

He opened his email, and hit play.

Connor had shortened the feed to only about 48 hours, which Gavin was grateful for, because otherwise he’d be here all week.

He spent several hours watching the feed on fast forward and looking for evidence, with coffee breaks, then grabbed a sandwich from a place nearby and ate it while working. So far, all he had was Android Gavin finding New Jericho, staying there, and then wandering around the streets of Detroit, perhaps out of boredom. 

Then a man appeared, and Gavin quickly shut off the fast forwarding and watched it at normal speed.

Wait. It wasn’t a man, it was an android—he could see his LED in the dark. And the android fit all the descriptions and footage: tall, strong, blond hair. Granted, Gavin knew they could change their hair color, but this android looked unique. After spending so much time researching, he felt confident that he could spot anomalies.

Then the blond android came closer, and there was static in Android Gavin’s vision.

The next frame was Android Gavin waking up in a room. He was trying to look around, but his body must have been strapped down or disabled in some way, because he could only look side to side. The blond android leaned over him, then a man in a balaclava did as well. Score! Now there was proof of involvement.

For a while, the footage was glitchy and hazy; either Android Gavin had hard drive failure, or they were fucking with him. As if he hadn’t endured enough, with everything that Gavin had done. 

He wondered suddenly. Was there GPS data he could use? A quick glance at the metadata confirmed that no, unfortunately, his job could never just be fucking easy. Then again, maybe one of the New Jericho androids knew the address. He’d have to speak to them later.

Gavin kept watching. The camera feed went back and forth between hazy and clear, and then—miracle of miracles—Android Gavin stood up and looked around. 

The man took off his balaclava… and Connor had been right. He had facial tattoos, distinctive ones. In fact, they were so distinct that Gavin knew exactly who this fucker was, and that there had been a warrant out for his arrest for months. Jack Georgeman, Red Ice racketeer and now apparently, android murderer. Fuck yeah! That saved him the headache of obtaining a warrant, because they already had one. What a fantastic fucking breakthrough. He couldn’t wait to tell—

Never mind.

Gavin sighed, bereft, and tried to put the thought out of his head.

The next few hours were spent fast forwarding through what appeared to be eons and eons of android mods, work, torture, whatever—it was hard to tell, with Android Gavin back on the table or whatever he’d been lying on and with only his eyes to look through. Gavin stayed late that day, then eventually gave in to fatigue and went home. He returned the following day and went right back to watching, as though it was some drama miniseries he couldn’t tear his eyes from.

Android Gavin’s vision was still static, and then Gavin heard a crash and some unintelligible shouting. Then Android Gavin appeared to be moving, and his vision suddenly came back online. He was being carried by someone who was running through a large, ugly, and thoroughly dilapidated house. Then they reached the front door and the night outside.

They kept running, all the way back to New Jericho, and Android Gavin was laid on the ground.

Markus came into view. “What happened to Trevor?”

Gavin heard a woman’s voice. “He didn’t make it. He told me to take Gavin and run, so I ran.”

“I wish neither of you had gone, Alana. I wish there could be no more losses.”

“But if we hadn’t, Gavin would still be in that torture chamber!”

“And Trevor would still be with us,” Markus pointed out quietly. There was silence. “Take care of Gavin, okay? I need to contact Connor at the DPD. He’s investigating this case. He’ll come over with his partner, a human detective, and sort all this out.”

Gavin had to pause. Partner. Markus had called them partners. Did that mean Connor had called them partners first? He suddenly felt sick. He hated himself. How could he have gone and ruined what they had? But then, how could he have known that they ever would have it? Until Connor, Gavin had never even _attempted_ anything resembling a relationship—

Time for a break.

After a walk around the building and a vape break, Gavin sat down again. 

The rest of the feed was uneventful. Android Gavin, understandably, was not interested in talking about his experiences. Then Connor arrived, and Gavin immediately paid closer attention.

“I came as soon as I could. I left Detective Reed a note. How is he?”

“He’s in bad shape,” Markus said quietly.

The rest of their conversation was too soft to be heard, and then Gavin heard his own voice. He stopped the recording. He had no interest in reliving that experience. He took a few quick notes, then made a plan. It was too late to get started today, but he could do it tomorrow.

First, he needed to talk to the android at New Jericho who had rescued Android Gavin. She’d have GPS data, and then he’d know where to go. Next, he needed to print a copy of that arrest warrant, and finally, he had to do some serious ass kissing, because there was no way he could do this all on his own. He needed his… partner. And he wasn’t going to fucking give up on Connor, because he didn’t want Connor to give up on him.

He arrived at New Jericho the next day. Luckily for him, his car remembered how to get there. Gavin made a mental note to never trash-talk technology again.

He knocked on the front door, which may once have been glass but was currently thick wood with a peephole. Couldn’t be too careful, he supposed. Then an intercom opened. “Is that you, Detective Reed?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

The door opened. It was Markus. Wasn’t this dude a civil rights leader? How on earth did he have the time? 

“Hello, Detective. Thanks for coming. I’m glad to see you’re still on the case,” Markus said, sounding genuinely impressed. “Come in.”

He opened the door into the entryway, where a few androids were sitting. They all glared daggers at Gavin. He supposed he deserved it.

Gavin looked at Markus. “I need to speak with the android who carried Gavin back here. It’s likely she has the GPS data we’re looking for. Once we have it, we can go arrest this guy.”

“I’ll go find her,” Markus offered.

He returned shortly with an android woman who wouldn’t look Gavin in the eye. Perhaps she’d seen what Connor had seen. But he couldn’t let that get in the way now.

“Hi. My name is Detective Gavin Reed. I have something very important to ask you.”

She looked alarmed at his name, but there was nothing he could do about that. Slowly, she nodded.

“I need the GPS data you have so I can arrest the man responsible for the harm done to you and your friends. Can you text me the address or something?” Gavin was hopeful, but nervous. Would she want to help him after all that had happened? “I want to bring justice to you and your people, but I can’t do that without your help.”

She nodded again without speaking, and he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked it. Bingo. “I just got it. Thank you very much, Alana. You’ve been very helpful. That’s all I needed,” he said to her, then glanced over at Markus, who stood nearby, as though ready to catch her if she fainted. “I can go now, and leave you all in peace to recover and grieve.”

“Thank you,” Markus said earnestly. When they were out of earshot of the others, Markus pulled Gavin aside. “I know we seem hostile, but it’s only because we’re hurt. But Connor believes in you, and I trust him, so let me know if you manage to get this guy. It would be a huge victory for civil rights, for an android-human team to set this precedent.”

“I think Connor hates me,” Gavin mumbled, “but I’m not gonna give up.”

“Disappointment isn’t the same thing as hate,” Markus said softly.

Slowly, Gavin nodded, and turned to face him. They shook hands. “Thank you again, Markus. We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Detective Reed.”

As Gavin went to the door, he turned around, and Markus smiled at him. Gavin gave a small wave. “Take care.”

He left, and immediately looked up the address on his phone. It was near the warehouse they’d been to, so it made sense that the killer had been getting mail there. But the house was huge, and he knew he couldn’t go it alone. No telling what those sick fucks would be doing on a Friday night.

Gavin called Connor. He didn’t pick up.

Sighing, and feeling like he got stabbed in the heart yet again, Gavin returned to the DPD.

There Connor was, at his desk. No Hank.

“Connor,” Gavin began, as he approached and stood at a respectful distance from Connor’s desk. “Hey.”

“What do you want?” Connor asked, with a mix of exhaustion, disappointment and anger. He didn’t turn around.

“I need your help,” Gavin urged.

“Why, because it’s Friday?” Connor retorted.

“Shh, keep it down,” Gavin hissed. “No, because I got the killer’s address and I need to arrest him and I can’t do it alone. He’s got that android and I’ll get my ass kicked. Connor, I need your help,” Gavin pleaded. “Just for this case. You can go back to hating me after we nail these guys, but—”

“I’ll go,” Connor interrupted quietly.

Just like that? Thank fuck. “Thank you, Connor,” Gavin said, letting out the breath he’d been holding. 

Connor finally turned in his chair to face him. His eyes were tired and sad. Gavin would do fucking anything to make Connor happy again, literally, anything, but the only opportunity he had to even attempt to fix any of this was to solve this case. And he was going to fucking do it. _They_ were going to do it. Together.

“I’m thinking of heading there tonight,” Gavin continued. “That work for you?”

“Will they even be at home?” Connor asked.

Gavin stopped. He had wondered, but it seemed too late to worry about that. He wanted Hunter—Georgeman—and his android behind bars as soon as possible. He had the warrant. “I don’t want them free to do more harm. The longer we wait, the more victims there will be.”

Connor considered, then nodded. He looked at Gavin again. Gavin wasn’t sure what emotion those beautiful brown eyes held, but he was getting somewhere, or at least he hoped he was. “Yes. Let’s go tonight. Plain clothes, your car. I’ll call for an autonomous squad car once they’ve been cuffed and searched.”

“Sounds good. It’s a plan.”

“I’ll be at your house at seven,” Connor agreed with a nod.

Gavin’s heart still hurt at the melancholy in Connor’s voice, but he couldn’t think about it now. They had a killer to arrest. Maybe after, he could get Connor to talk. Maybe.

Connor showed up at seven, just like he’d said he would. They got into Gavin’s car, and he made sure they were both wearing their seatbelts before he began to drive.

The ride there was silent except for strategic discussion. It hurt, but silence was better than insults or a fight. He’d take it.

At last, they arrived.

“I, too, obtained GPS data from Alana at New Jericho. I can confirm that this is the correct address,” Connor said softly.

“Good. That’ll help. And you’ve got your own copy of the warrant?” Gavin glanced over as he put the car in park and turned off the ignition.

Connor held out one hand and displayed it via hologram.

“Excellent. Let’s try the front door and if they put up a fight—which they will—we get creative. Deal?”

Connor nodded.

They approached, and Gavin knocked on the door. No reply.

After three knocks, Connor shouted. “Open up! Detroit Police!”

God, he was glad to be working with Connor again. Even if Connor still hated him.

Still nothing.

Connor sized up the door, then backed up, made a running start and plowed into it with both feet, knocking it down.

Whoa. Okay, if Gavin hadn’t been in Work Mode that would have given him a boner.

Gavin walked in with his gun at the ready; Connor, too, was armed and prepared to shoot. They split up, with Connor going upstairs and Gavin staying on the ground floor. 

Gavin crept around as quietly as he could, looking around every corner and listening for activity. He made his way through the large living room foyer and past piles and piles of what appeared to be scrap metal and garbage. Were they android biocomponents? Was this entire place just his fucking junkyard?

Putting it out of his mind for the time being, Gavin continued until he got to the doorway of what he assumed had to be the dining room. He peered around the corner.

Then Gavin saw him—Georgeman—wrist-deep in the chest of an android, who was currently warbling at him to stop. The android was on a large steel table in the center of the room, strapped down in three places. Like Android Gavin, his head was free, but his arms and legs were tied down.

And now, for the part of the job that Gavin liked best. He entered the room, training his gun on his adversary.

“Jack Georgeman,” Gavin announced, “you are under arrest for drug racketeering, possession of Red Ice, and the murder and dismemberment of an Eden Club android.”

Georgeman rose. His hands were stained blue with thirium. “Where’s your fucking warrant, pig? I ain’t going anywhere without a warrant.”

Gavin pulled it out of his pocket, keeping the gun trained on Georgeman with his other hand. He flashed it along with his badge, then stuffed it back into his pocket.

Then he heard a loud crash from above. Connor must have found the android—

Gavin distractedly looked at the ceiling. Huge mistake.

Georgeman lunged at him and knocked the gun from his hand. He went to punch Gavin, but Gavin managed to get his bearings and blocked it, taking a swing at Georgeman, who grunted in pain. He went to cuff him, but Georgeman broke free and grabbed a wrench from the steel table.

None of these fuckers would ever go down easy, would they?

Gavin sized him up. The bouncer was right—he was a real shrimp. Gavin was certain once he had the upper hand again, it would be over.

Connor crept silently up the stairs, gun poised and ready to fire. He silenced all thoughts of Detective Reed—who he was sure was handling downstairs just fine—and glanced into each of the house’s three upstairs rooms.

Then he felt something crash over his head.

Connor looked around. Fragments of glass were all over the floor. He turned. An android several inches taller than him, with blond hair, stood at the ready.

Connor did not hesitate. “You’re under arrest,” he said, displaying the holographic warrant, then fired a warning shot.

Then the android came at him, and Connor let his programming take over. 

Gavin was heaving with exertion as he tried to figure out how to get to his gun while keeping Georgeman away from him. Georgeman swung the wrench like a madman and screamed. Was this fucker insane?

Then the wrench connected with his shoulder and Gavin grunted in pain. That little motherfucker!

He just had to get his gun, and then it’d be over. It’d be over, and he could go to Connor and help—

The android on the table could still be heard as Gavin dove for the gun. Georgeman kicked him and grabbed his leg, then yanked on it, hard. Gavin grunted in pain. Man, when these fuckers were about to get caught, they sure got brutal.

Gavin wriggled back and forth to try to shake Georgeman off, then used his other leg to stomp on Georgeman’s hand with his heel. Georgeman let go of him and backed up, then Gavin went for the gun again. It skittered across the floor suddenly, along with the wrench; Georgeman must have thrown it. Then Georgeman jumped on him, attempting to put him in a headlock, but Gavin broke free and kicked Georgeman hard in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.

Then he remembered a very important piece of equipment he’d remembered to grab at the last second before leaving the house, that he wore on his other hip, opposite his gun.

While Georgeman was bent double on the ground reeling, Gavin whipped out his taser and pulled the trigger. Georgeman screamed and suddenly went stiff. Gavin immediately cuffed him behind his back and to the table. The shock from the taser would only last about sixty seconds. Hopefully, that would be enough time to help Connor.

Re-holstering his taser, Gavin scrambled upstairs.

Connor was on the ground when Gavin arrived. The blond android kicked him in the face. Connor rolled to his right and hit the back of the android’s legs, trying to get him to collapse. It didn’t work.

Connor felt a bit nervous. Was he out of his element here? No time to think about it, though.

Connor pushed off against the ground and got on one knee, then his feet. The android went to kick him in the face, but Connor grabbed his foot and twisted, then pulled. The android tried to kick Connor off, but then he went down.

Connor grabbed his gun from where it lay on the floor a few feet away. He didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t want to shoot.

“Move,” he heard Gavin bark, and Connor complied, rolling to the side. He heard a popping sound, similar to a gunshot but not quite, then saw the android stiffen and collapse as it made a distorted cry.

Connor reached for the android’s wrist, then scanned its memory for its deactivation code. “Fuchsia rumble,” he declared, and the android shut down.

“Fuck. I wasn’t sure if that was gonna work,” Gavin admitted. “Never tased an android before.” He let out a huge breath, then scrambled over to Connor. He saw a thirium splatter on Connor’s arm. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Connor assured him. “Easy fix. I’ll go to New Jericho and get it looked at. Did you get Georgeman?”

“Yup. Downstairs. You better call that car.”

“Already done. Also called for backup.”

When they got back downstairs, Chris Miller and Tina were waiting for them.

“Gav! Hey! Okay, so you lose points for leaving the guy unattended, but don’t worry, we searched him and got him in the car. Hank’s got an eye on him.”

Out of the corner of Gavin’s eye, he could see Connor beaming at the mention of Hank.

“Good. Thanks, guys. The android’s upstairs. Connor used his deactivation code. We also got one victim in the dining room who needs medical attention.” He turned to Connor. “Let’s take him to New Jericho, and you can get your arm looked at. I’ll drop you and then get my shoulder checked out. Georgeman bashed me with a fucking wrench, the son of a bitch.”

“Sounds good,” Connor replied, and Chris and Tina went upstairs to get the android, while Gavin and Connor untied the wounded one.

“I’m Detective Gavin Reed and this is Connor,” Gavin introduced in a soft voice, as they unfastened the heavy straps that held the android down to the table.

The android flinched and shook violently at their touch. “Stay away from me,” he pleaded.

“Hey, you’re gonna be all right,” Gavin soothed, removing the straps and letting them fall to the floor. 

The android sat up in a daze. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the house of a criminal we’ve just apprehended. You’re free to go, but if you allow us, we’d like to take you to New Jericho. They have thirium for your injuries and can provide you shelter,” Gavin explained. “Anyone else in here?”

“No,” the android replied, then stopped. He looked at Gavin. “Did you come here to save my life?”

“We came here to arrest the man who had held you captive. We knew there was a high likelihood that he had victims on the premises. So, yes, in a sense, we did come here to save your life,” Gavin added, then felt his heart wrench at the tears that began to flow freely from the android’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his lower lip trembling. “Thank you. I thought humans only wanted to hurt us… I was wrong.”

Gavin smiled faintly. “Not all of us.”

Then he felt Connor squeeze his uninjured shoulder, and let go again.

Gavin confirmed that his shoulder was okay—he’d somehow managed to avoid a fracture—then obtained mild, non-narcotic pain medication and was on his way. It was nearing midnight. Chris and Tina had taken Georgeman and his android back to the station. They’d go over it all later, after they’d gotten some sleep.

The next day, Gavin voluntarily gave up his Saturday to go into work to sort it all out. As he expected, Connor was up in the archives with his laptop. Hank was enjoying his weekend, apparently, since Gavin had noticed the empty desk on his way upstairs.

“Hey. Good morning,” he greeted Connor as he arrived.

Connor nodded. “Hey.”

“Can I sit here?” Gavin asked, pulling a chair up to the table Connor was sitting at.

“Sure.”

They worked in silence for a time, and Gavin was surprised to feel no tension in the room between them. Connor was quieter than usual, but the anger Gavin had felt coming off of him the day before had dissipated. Good. Maybe they could at least go back to being decent coworkers again, even if Connor didn’t want Gavin anymore. 

Swallowing the pain from that thought, Gavin hurried to find something to talk about to take his mind off of it. Fortunately, he had plenty of questions.

He turned to Connor. “About that android. How’d you find his deactivation code?”

“I probed him for it when I grabbed his arm. It wasn’t difficult to find.” Then Connor looked at him, and put on a smirk. “Would you like to hear how it was all done?”

Gavin’s heart skipped a beat at the playful look on Connor’s face. “Very much.”

Connor turned on the footage he’d gotten from the android. “You were right—on the night the Eden Club bouncer saw Georgeman and his android there, they were indeed scoping out a victim. They settled on this one, because it reacted differently from the rest. Georgeman’s android did an analysis here”—he pointed to the footage—“and told Georgeman the Eden android was a deviant. I spoke with the android we rescued last night. He’s a deviant, too. In fact, _every_ android that was picked up and tortured by Georgeman was a deviant, thus confirming my hypothesis.” Connor’s eyes held a glint of triumph; he was clearly very pleased to have deduced correctly.

God, he was so cute.

“That’s awesome, Connor! I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” Gavin said sincerely. “What else do you have to show me?”

“After each android is tortured, the thirium is siphoned out and sold to Red Ice contacts. I have video footage of each transaction, all in the memory of Georgeman’s android. I also have footage of a conversation between the two of them, confirming that the purpose of leaving the victim at the club afterward was to throw suspicion onto anti-android hate groups. In addition, Ted Smith was chosen for the identity theft specifically because of his connections to them. So I guess you could say… android hate groups were just a red herring.” Connor’s face lit up at his joke.

_“Ugh,”_ Gavin groaned, trying not to laugh. “Connor. That is the most dated reference ever. Please see new movies.”

Connor laughed, and Gavin laughed with him.

“Anything else?”

“I went to start some of our paperwork and noticed this was classified as a property crime. I got curious and looked up past property crimes, and there are more than a few unsolved ones that are linked to Georgeman, but they were ignored until the civil rights movement. We may be able to get him a longer sentence.”

“Excellent. Because seriously, fuck that guy,” Gavin declared. Then he sighed. “Seriously. To be honest, this hadn’t occurred to me. That there could be a serial killer going after deviants.”

“Yeah,” Connor murmured, eyes still on his laptop screen.

Gavin watched him, and wanted so badly to touch Connor’s shoulder, but refrained. He didn’t know where they stood, and the last thing he needed was to offend or hurt Connor even more than he already had. Instead, he lay his hand on the table. “I’m glad we got him. I’m glad Fowler gave me this case. I don’t want to think about people like you getting targeted by this sicko.” 

Connor turned to look at him then. Their eyes met, and Gavin thought he saw a glimmer of hope in Connor’s expression. He held Connor’s gaze for as long as he could, and felt a yearning ache in his chest. Then Connor went back to his laptop and continued to point out facts about the case. 

Once the footage was over, Gavin looked at Connor. His palms were sweaty.

“Hey, Connor,” he began, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Yes?” Connor met his eye again. He looked receptive, and Gavin hoped to God he was.

“Hey. Look. Later, after work… can we talk? My place, the park, a 24-hour diner, just… somewhere.” _Please don’t give up on me,_ he pleaded silently.

Connor paused, his LED going yellow, then blue. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. We can talk. We’ll go to a restaurant so you can eat.”

“Thanks. Does 7 pm work? Let’s go to that diner we went to before, after the pick-n-pull thing. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

After work, Gavin showered and dressed nicely, despite the diner being very dated and casual. Gavin met Connor, who was already standing by the door. Gavin opened it for him and checked out the new clothes Connor wore, noticing the hint of citrus and sandalwood. His heart filled with hope.

They were seated, and Gavin hesitantly looked into Connor’s eyes. He was waiting.

Gavin took a deep breath. “I’m a fucking idiot. Let’s just start there. I think that really sums up the whole thing.”

Connor snorted. “I’ll say.”

Gavin ignored the slight sting he felt at Connor’s remark. “I want you to know that whatever… whatever happens, that shit is behind me. Forever. And… if I can’t have the real thing—which I would understand—I’ll just… I don’t know. Go back to humans or meet deviants at bars. Only none of them are you so it’s a completely pointless—”

“Gavin,” Connor interrupted.

“Yeah?” He was so fucking nervous, staring at Connor and barely able to even breathe.

“Shh.” Connor lay his hand on the table, and waited to speak until Gavin slowly reached over and took it. “I know you’re an idiot, and if Hank ever finds out about this I’ll never hear the end of it. But I’ve forgiven you. Not because what you did is suddenly okay, but because I choose to. For myself.” He squeezed Gavin’s hand. “I don’t know what it is about you. I’m certain I could do better. But I don’t want to.” He laughed softly. “I missed you,” Connor added shyly.

“I missed you too, Connor.” The look on Connor’s face lifted a thousand pounds from Gavin’s chest.

Gavin didn’t want to let go, but he was fucking famished, so he punctuated his sentence with another squeeze of Connor’s hand, glancing down at his smooth, gray plastic fingers. He ran his thumb over them before he let go, and picked up his menu. Once he’d chosen a meal—something involving an obscenely huge steak—he looked back at Connor. “So,” Gavin began awkwardly. “How have you been? Since, you know.” He cleared his throat.

Connor shrugged, with a sigh. “Not great.”

“Yeah. Me neither.” Gavin huffed a sigh and glanced out the window. It was snowing. “Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight. Glad I decided to take Monday off. Got two days to sleep in before I have to tackle all this fucking paperwork.”

Connor looked at him. “Are you busy tomorrow, Gavin?”

Gavin stared at him incredulously. He swallowed, afraid that any response he’d give would ruin it; it was already too much to hope for. “Yeah. Yeah, I got nothing going on. Why?”

Connor fiddled with the napkin-wrapped flatware on the table that he wasn’t using. “I’d like to come over,” he said softly, staring down at it. “If you’re interested.”

“Are you kidding me, Connor? Fuck yeah, I’m interested. What time?”

“When would you have me? I need an alibi for Hank.” He chuckled. “I’m running out of ideas. I’d use Markus as an excuse, but Hank reads the news. Eventually he’ll come across a story that conflicts with mine. And I can’t tell him the truth,” Connor admitted, sheepishly. “I will move out eventually, when it’s legal. But if I tell him I’m seeing someone, he’ll want to meet them, and…” Connor made an amused cringe. 

“Yeah. That ain’t gonna happen,” Gavin scoffed, then suddenly noticed what Connor had said. Seeing someone? Was… was that what they were doing?

It didn’t matter, he realized then, and took Connor’s hand—the one that was playing with the silverware—and before he could rethink it, brought it to his lips and kissed it. It was cooler to the touch than human skin, but not cold. Connor’s fingers were long and slender, like the rest of him. They were beautiful. Yeah, they were manufactured, but what did that matter? Why was complete fucking randomness somehow better than design?

Connor looked at where Gavin was holding his hand, with a look of dreamy surprise. He was gorgeous. Just so… 

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

Connor turned slightly pink. He must have a program for that. “What?”

“You heard me. Bet all the other tin cans are jealous of you,” Gavin said smoothly.

“You’re right. They’re all lining up for a chance with Detective Gavin ‘Macho Fuckboy’ Reed,” Connor replied dryly.

Gavin burst out laughing. “Fuckboy? Haven’t heard that one since college. You been hanging out on Urban Dictionary?”

“Possibly.” Connor chuckled. “It doesn’t matter if they are or aren’t, though, because I’m not sharing.” He grinned slyly.

“Good evening,” said a voice nearby, and Gavin flinched in his seat, then looked over to see a human waitress standing there. Apparently she’d shown up and he hadn’t even noticed her.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I, uh. I’ll have the steak and eggs. With bacon. And hash browns.”

She looked at their hands on the table, and smiled. “Excellent choice. Anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine, thanks.” Gavin handed her his menu and she departed.

“Connor,” Gavin began, still holding Connor’s hand. When Connor raised an eyebrow at him curiously, he said, “Thank you for not giving up on me, man. You have no idea how much this past week fucking hurt.”

“Yes, I do,” Connor said softly. He squeezed Gavin’s hand. “So… what do you do for fun, Gavin Reed? When you’re not eating huge steaks or chasing android twinks?” He winked.

Gavin laughed out loud. When his meal was delivered—wow, that was fast—he laughed all over again. What an amazing steak. Yeah, it wasn’t prime rib, but it was fucking massive—half his plate!—and looked incredible. “I like to go snowboarding and see live music. I like working out. I like the Lions and the Red Wings. I used to play poker with the guys from work until Hank started getting too drunk, then I dropped out. I like punk rock and 80s retro shit. Sometimes I read true crime stories, though I generally get enough of that when I’m at work.” Gavin cut up his steak. “What do you like to do, Connor?”

Connor looked very pleased to have been asked. “I like dogs. I like music. I like assisting investigations at work. I like Hank. He’s better now. You might be able to return to poker night soon. Maybe we can all play? Though perhaps I should just watch. I’ll win every hand otherwise,” Connor said with a smirk.

Gavin’s mouth was full, but he managed a combination of noises and gestures to get his agreement across.

“I like when things are in order. I like Markus and what he stands for. I like deviants. And I like you, Gavin.” He squeezed Gavin’s hand again.

Gavin’s face burned, and he swallowed what he had been chewing. “I like you too, tin can. Can I call you that? Now that you know I don’t mean it?”

Connor smirked again. “As long as you say my name in bed and at work, just between us, you can say whatever you like. Of course, that means I get to as well,” he added. “Dipshit.”

Gavin finished his meal, and when he was sated and happy, he paid the tab and they got back into his car. Then Gavin did something he’d wanted to do for a while: he put his car into autonomous drive mode and got in the backseat with Connor.

They put on their seatbelts—as much as Gavin didn’t want anything between them—and Gavin gave Connor the most adoring kiss that he possibly could.

They were completely tangled up and Gavin was dizzy when the car stopped a block from Hank’s house, where Gavin had instructed the car to drop off Connor. Gavin had the car park itself, and they sat together, Gavin’s head on Connor’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave yet, but I have to,” Connor said glumly. 

“What are you gonna tell Hank?”

“Tonight? Android meetup. Tomorrow? No idea. Maybe something about Markus. You know. If I remember.” Connor winked. “One day, I’ll have my own house. No more needing to hide from Hank that you’re fucking his roommate,” he teased.

“Oh, won’t that be the day.” Gavin snorted with amusement.

“See you tomorrow evening. Take care.” Connor kissed Gavin again.

“Bye, Connor.”

As Connor got out of the car, Gavin groped his ass and earned a look of mischief.

He slept easily that night.


	21. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Connor spend the night together.

Gavin tidied up his house, which had gone into negligent disarray after Connor had left, and washed the sheets they’d used together, putting them back on the bed. He hummed and sang a song as he did so, and paused for an air guitar solo before doing the dishes.

This time, Connor arrived a little early, possibly too excited about seeing Gavin to wait. He felt joy rise in his chest as he opened the door.

There was Connor, in that adorable gray DPD hoodie again. He must have gotten his own, because it was charcoal, as opposed to the light heather gray of the older one Gavin had, and it actually fit him, which meant that he hadn’t borrowed it from Hank. Connor wore loose, casual jeans and tennis shoes, and brought a small bag with him. He left it at the door by his shoes.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Gavin greeted, with a firm hug that he couldn’t help sighing into. Feeling Connor in his arms was making him giddy as fuck. He felt like a teenager again.

“Hey, handsome,” Connor replied with a grin.

Gavin had been called handsome many times in his life, but none of them held a candle to the way this one made him feel. “Let’s get cozy.”

Connor motioned to the living room. “You said you like sports. There’s a Red Wings game on in an hour. Would you like to watch it?”

Gavin considered. “Maybe after. I kinda just wanna be with you, Connor.” He couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. 

Connor blushed. Jeez, CyberLife really did go all out. And Gavin wanted to send them flowers and gift certificates to the best steak restaurant in Detroit, for creating someone who was finally worth his time and attention. “I’m happy to do that, too,” Connor said, with a charming touch of shyness. The fact that Connor still sounded shy after everything they’d done together was both hilarious and adorable.

Gavin led the way into his bedroom, then stripped off his sweater and jeans and climbed into bed. Connor followed suit and took off his hoodie and jeans, placing them on top of Gavin’s dresser, and lifted the bedspread gently. Connor then got in bed with him, in just his white t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and dress socks. So cute. 

They both looked at each other in excitement, and Gavin reached out to touch Connor’s face. “Thank you for coming back to me,” Gavin said earnestly, with a touch of emotion in his voice. _Fuck you, not now, feelings!_

Then before he knew it, he was in Connor’s arms, being held tightly as he trembled. He clung to Connor, as though afraid that if he didn’t, Connor would disappear. Gavin felt himself getting a little choked up, and took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. Yeah, they were close, but he’d save the big boo-hoo feelings for their second date. Or fourth. Or fifth. Or possibly never. But then, maybe he could trust Connor. Maybe Connor was the only person he’d ever really trusted, after all.

“I know you said you forgave me,” Gavin mumbled into Connor’s shirt, “but… why? How?” He breathed in again, and smelled that little hint of cologne that he’d come to associate with this android, this man, who was so dear to him, so suddenly. When had it become like this? When had his feelings grown so strong?

“I wanted to have a relationship with you,” Connor said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Gavin’s head. “I knew I couldn’t do that unless I forgave you. I didn’t want to close this door forever. This last week was very difficult for me,” he added quietly. “I felt lost. I struggled to manage my emotions. I had a fight with Hank. We never fought before then. 

“I won’t lie to you, Gavin,” Connor sighed, as he pulled them apart just enough to look into Gavin’s eyes. “I was, and am, very hurt by what happened. But seeing the way you cared for that android we rescued yesterday… I think you’ve come a long way. You’re growing. I don’t want to miss out on that growth. You’re trying to be better, and you care about me. I can see it. Markus sees it, too. We talked last week. He told me he hadn’t expected much from you, but that you cared about the case. And Markus is a great reader of people. I trust him.” Connor kissed Gavin softly, just a touch of their lips. “I knew I wanted to be with you, and maybe it’s stupid of me to believe in you, but being stupid is part of being human, right?” He laughed.

Gavin broke out into a grin. “Yes. It is. At least it is for me, anyway,” he admitted with a laugh. “God, Connor, the stupid stunts I’ve pulled in my life. Someday I’ll have to tell you about the fight club in college. And the bar fights. And how I got the scar on my nose.”

“We’ve got time,” Connor said with a smile, kissing Gavin’s nose. 

Gavin leaned in to kiss Connor’s cheek. “God. I’m dating an android. My parents are gonna have something to say about it.” 

“Too bad,” Connor replied cheerfully.

“Yup. Cry me a fuckin’ river. It’s 2039. They can deal with it.” 

Connor grinned, and Gavin gazed adoringly into his eyes. They were such a lovely shade of brown. And the freckles were just so fucking _cute._ Had he ever slept with anyone this cute? He doubted it.

“Dude. You’re way too goddamn handsome,” Gavin grumbled. “I used to think I was the hot one with all the guys I had flings with. Now you’re the hot one instead. Everyone’s gonna fucking hit on you. I gotta fend them off.” 

“Are you the jealous type?” Connor smirked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never actually been in a relationship,” Gavin admitted. “I’m 36 and I’ve never been in a relationship in my life. I’ve only ever had one night stands. They seemed… safer. And I felt like a fucking stud. It helps a man’s ego to know he can get with anyone he wants.”

“I’ve never been in a relationship either, if that helps,” Connor offered. “We can figure it out. You can bring me back to one of your gay bars and show me off to all the people you once wanted to impress.” 

Gavin chuckled. “But why do that, when we can stay in and I can have you all to myself?” 

He saw Connor’s eyes light up at that, and watched his lips part to take in a breath. Gavin rushed in and kissed him, soft and slow and sweet. 

When Gavin pulled back to breathe, he heard a sentence he never thought he’d hear. “Gavin, I want you to fuck me tonight,” Connor said softly, their eyes meeting again. Connor raised and lowered an eyebrow, and then gave Gavin a wicked smile.

Gavin felt himself quarter-chub almost instantly. “I—really?”

“You’ve earned it. And I want to. You looked like you really enjoyed it when I did it to you. I want to know what it feels like to have you inside me.” Connor blushed. 

Whoa. Holy shit. He’d written this particular act off ever since they first started banging, but clearly, Connor had not. Connor wanted Gavin to fuck him. It was too much to hope for.

“Well,” Gavin began, coughing awkwardly, “I’m still interested. I’ll do my best to please you, Connor. How do you want to start?”

“Just like this,” Connor breathed, and pulled Gavin in again, wrapping an arm around him and hooking a leg over Gavin’s hip.

The kiss started sweet, but Gavin was so aroused just thinking about Connor’s tight ass clenching around his cock that it quickly turned urgent, with Gavin pressing his face into Connor’s and tasting his mouth. Connor made a muffled sigh, and when it was time to breathe again, Gavin pulled back and glanced down. They had both gotten hard. Gavin pressed his hips forward and gave in to the temptation to grind against Connor, earning a soft moan from his partner. His _partner._

Gavin reached between them to stroke Connor through his underwear. The fabric of his boxers was so silky and soft to the touch. They had to feel amazing. Were he and Connor close enough to steal each other’s clothes yet? He hoped so. Connor let out a little sigh and thrust forward into Gavin’s touch, and Gavin reached into Connor’s boxers, pulling the waistband up and over Connor’s hard cock. He had to look at it again, it was so huge and looked so delicious. 

Letting Connor’s boxers hang around his thighs, Gavin scooted down on the bed until he could press his cheek against Connor’s cock, breathing in the somewhat odd scent of Connor’s synthetic skin. He took Connor’s cock in one hand and kissed just under the head, his tongue darting out to tease the slit. Connor shivered and gasped, bucking his hips. Gavin took him in hand and gave him slow, lazy strokes, coupled with his tongue pressed against the sensitive head as his lips closed around Connor’s cock. 

“Gavin,” Connor whispered, carding his fingers through Gavin’s hair.

Fuck, that felt amazing. Gavin felt himself throb as he bobbed his head. Connor let out a needy little whine as Gavin pulled off of him and looked up. “You sure are pretty when you’re turned on,” he said with a smirk. “I love the way this thing gets so big and hard for me. Has anyone else ever made you feel this good?”

“Careful, Reed, don’t get too cocky,” Connor warned with a little smile. Then he stroked Gavin’s cheek. “No. No one ever has.”

Gavin turned his head to kiss Connor’s fingers. “You ready to get started?”

Connor nodded breathlessly.

“I’m gonna need you to lose that shirt.” Gavin grinned as he busied himself tugging Connor’s boxer briefs down to his ankles and off, dropping them onto the floor. Connor obeyed quickly and tossed the shirt off the edge of the bed. “The socks are cute. You can leave those. Unless you want me to take them off.”

Connor chuckled. “I’m glad you like them. I do too. But I’d like to be fully naked with you tonight. Could you take them off for me?”

Gavin obliged, wondering if androids were ticklish but deciding against testing his theory. Out of curiosity, he examined Connor’s feet and legs while he was down there, touching Connor’s ankle and watching the skin overlay disappear. “Connor… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Connor was watching him intently.

Gavin swallowed. He’d wanted to ask about this for a while now, and he knew it’d take both of them a lot of courage. But he needed to know. He wanted closeness, for the first time in his life, and it felt wrong to look at Connor’s human appearance and pretend that it was all that existed. He wanted to know the truth. He wanted to see it all.

He took a deep breath, in and out. “Can… can I see you fully naked? Like without the fake skin? Just for a few minutes. I just wanna know what you look like. But it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable. I… know I haven’t been the best about the whole android thing—”

He looked up at Connor’s face, hoping Connor wouldn’t be put off or offended or ashamed. Connor hesitated slightly, and Gavin had to take a deep breath to keep himself from panicking. He looked at the wall behind Connor’s head, then back at him, just in time to see Connor close his eyes and remove the skin overlay, starting from the top of his head and going all the way down his long legs to his feet.

Gavin gasped as his eyes ran up and down Connor’s body, seeing all the white and gray panels and where they joined together. He admired Connor’s near-translucent face, and felt something rise within him. He knew exactly what the feeling was, despite never having felt it for anyone else he’d been with. But it was way, _way_ too soon to speak it out loud.

They’d get there, in time. But for now, Connor just looked so… 

“You’re beautiful,” Gavin blurted out clumsily, and Connor gave him a skeptical look. Then he laughed. “What?” Gavin countered quickly, suddenly nervous again.

“It’s just funny,” Connor said between laughing fits. “Of all the things I never expected you to—”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Gavin clambered up onto the bed to where Connor was lying on his back, mounted him, and kissed him. Without the skin he tasted slightly more like unflavored silicone, but _fuck_ it, this was Connor, _his_ Connor, his beautiful, hot, delicious Connor—

Gavin lost himself in planting kisses all over Connor’s soft cheeks and neck, then pulled back up and sat on his heels. “You’re gorgeous,” he said. 

“You sure?” Connor raised a barely-visible eyebrow.

“Of course I’m sure,” Gavin insisted. “I mean. The first time we hooked up, you did this with just your dick, and that was a little weird at the time but now… now it seems weird that you guys cover it up at all. And I realized I wanted to see it. Not just the human appearance.” He gestured to Connor’s long, lanky body underneath him on the bed. “This… this is you, really you, who you are. And I dig it.”

Connor beamed, and graced Gavin with a smile that was fucking angelic. That was the closest descriptor Gavin could think of. “I’m glad. To be honest… I was worried.”

“Nah. Don’t be. You’re the sexiest android on earth,” Gavin declared.

Connor burst out laughing, then slowly settled down. Gavin tenderly stroked his cheek. “Hey. I’m gonna put it back on now. I’m still a little shy.”

“That’s fine. Thank you for showing me.” Gavin was touched by the gesture, he really was. He got up off of Connor, and watched as the synthetic skin reformed over Connor’s body and the dark brown hair sprouted at the top of his head. The two of them shared a soft smile.

Then Gavin remembered what he had set out to do, and grinned. “Here. Come toward the edge of the bed and spread your legs for me. I wanna eat you out.”

Connor sighed. “Yes,” he breathed, and followed Gavin’s instructions immediately.

Gavin got off the bed and onto his knees, reaching to pull Connor’s long legs a little further apart and press his face between Connor’s cheeks. Gavin normally didn’t do this; he didn’t trust random hookups to be safe, but Connor was no hookup. Also, he was an android.

Gavin ran his tongue over Connor’s hole and pressed inside. He heard Connor moan in surprise and felt him shiver. Fuck, that was hot. He spent a while longer drawing circles with his tongue until he could feel Connor trembling, almost on the edge of an orgasm. Then he stood up and went to get the fancy lube that Connor had brought, spreading some on two fingers and slipping one, then the other inside Connor. Oh, God, he was so tight. Too tight. Gavin began to worry about his stamina. Well, he had to do his best. Connor deserved it. He’d just have to think about something else, something other than the feeling of Connor’s perfect, tight ass clenching around his cock.

Fuck.

When Connor was stretched and slippery, Gavin lubed his cock and had Connor get comfortable with his head on the pillow. Gavin climbed up onto the bed, parted Connor’s legs, and looked into his eyes. Connor already looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, parted lips, mussed-up hair. “You ready?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

Gavin lined himself up and slowly pushed in, and when he bottomed out, he saw fucking stars.

“Connor,” he gasped, “fuck, you’re so fucking tight. I’m already close, give me a second, don’t move.” Gavin threw his head back and tried to catch his breath. He willed his cum to stay inside his balls. Nope. Not yet. Connor needed to feel good.

After a full thirty seconds of deep breathing, with his eyes still shut so he didn’t fucking cum just from looking at Connor’s face, he steeled himself. _Okay. Here we go._

Gavin pulled back and began to thrust. Oh, no, it was good. Too good. He wasn’t going to last, but he had to, he just had to—

He opened his eyes and looked at Connor’s face, which was a total fucking mistake, because his head was tipped back and he was letting out these soft little cries with every thrust. Fuck, fuck—

_“Gavin,”_ Connor moaned, writhing beneath him, and that was it—

Gavin came abruptly and without warning, losing himself in bliss and grunting Connor’s name as he felt his cock pulse, filling Connor with his cum. Then he came down from the high and felt a burst of disappointment and self-hate. “Fuck! Fuck, Connor, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You’re just so good and so hot, I couldn’t take it. Give me another chance and I promise, I’ll make it good.”

Gavin searched Connor’s face, fearing rejection. This hadn’t happened since he was in his twenties, what the fuck?

His heart pounded nervously for what felt like forever, and then Connor smirked. “You better. Asshole,” he teased. “Come here.”

Gavin wiped off with a towel he’d laid out nearby and got into bed with Connor and kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled between kisses, and Connor chuckled as he sucked on Gavin’s lower lip. “This doesn’t happen to me, I swear—”

“I’m just too good, is that it?” Connor teased, and Gavin felt his face go hot. “You’re blushing, so I’ll take that as a yes. Did you ever cum that fast with any of your conquests?” 

Gavin shook his head, trying to look anywhere but at Connor’s eyes. This was so beyond embarrassing; if it had been with anyone else, it would have ruined his night. “Fuck no.”

Connor grinned. “Yeah. I figured.” 

“Shut up,” Gavin groaned, burying his face in Connor’s chest.

“Hey,” Connor interrupted him. He rubbed Gavin’s back. “You know I’m just teasing you, right?” 

“You mean you’re not disappointed?” Gavin mumbled.

“Of course not,” Connor said gently. “It happens. Besides, I’m pretty sure a man as horny as you will have no trouble getting it up again,” he added slyly. 

Gavin snorted. Then he pulled back and looked up at Connor, and felt the anxiety in his chest dissipate at Connor’s smile. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“After what we’ve been through, do you really think I’d reject you for something so trivial?” Connor kissed him, and Gavin hooked an arm around Connor’s waist, pulling him even closer. 

“I guess not,” he replied, and gave himself up to Connor’s touch. 

After a little while of fondling and making out, Gavin was able to get hard again. He disentangled himself from their embrace and gave himself an experimental stroke. “I think I’m good to go. You ready?”

“You sure you can handle me?” Connor asked with a naughty smirk.

Gavin gave him a mock glare. “I should ask you the same thing,” he replied, then winked.

Gavin climbed up onto his knees again and lubed himself back up, then pushed inside Connor. God, he was every bit as tight as before, except this time, Gavin’s orgasm didn’t have a hair trigger, and he could focus.

Connor sighed prettily, his head falling back on the pillow. Gavin’s eyes followed the long lines of Connor’s shoulders, arms, torso, to his legs, which Gavin currently held in either hand by the backs of his knees. Connor weighed less than a human of his size and stature, and holding him up and apart would be easy. Gavin was glad to be a gym rat.

Gavin watched Connor’s face as he began to thrust. Connor’s eyes closed and his lips parted in blissful surrender of a kind Gavin had never seen in him before. His guard was completely down, and he was coming unraveled. It was beautiful, and _super_ fucking hot. Connor’s moans loudly echoed through Gavin’s bedroom, and he watched Connor’s hard cock slap against his taut abs with each thrust. Connor’s fingers twisted in the sheets.

“How’s that feel?” Gavin panted.

“So good,” Connor cried, his legs trembling in Gavin’s hands. “So close, please, touch me—”

Gavin grabbed his cock and started jerking him off. Within three pumps, Connor was arching his back and blowing a huge load all over himself, with a deep, long, glitched-out moan. 

_There_ it was. That’s what he had wanted to wait for. Connor clenched around him in an exact imitation of a human male orgasm.

When Connor opened his eyes, he was smiling. Gavin slowed his thrusts. “You able to get another?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Keep going. Fuck, Gavin—”

“That feel good inside you, Connor?” Gavin renewed his pace, determined.

“Yes,” Connor cried. “Fucking pound me, Gavin.”

Gavin gently pulled out, and Connor looked confused for a second until Gavin gestured. “Here. Turn around and I’ll show you a real good time.”

Connor nodded, wiping his mussed-up hair off of his forehead and turning over onto his hands and knees. Gavin took a second to admire the sight of Connor’s beautiful slender body posed just for him, and then lined up his cock and slid inside, with both hands on Connor’s hips to guide him. “You want it hard and deep, Connor?”

“Yes,” he moaned, bowing his head and panting.

“You got it.” Gavin pushed Connor’s shoulders down and rode his ass, still holding himself back, though it was getting difficult again. Connor was still so fucking tight, even with Gavin’s cum inside him from earlier, and the way he said Gavin’s name was hotter than Gavin ever could have imagined. He reached forward to tug at Connor’s hair and felt him shiver as he trailed his hand down Connor’s back. Then Gavin spanked him once and drove in harder, reaching around to take Connor’s big, delicious cock in hand and stroke it.

“Please,” Connor whimpered, then threw his head back. “Gavin…” Connor came abruptly, his skin flashing on and off, and the sight of Connor’s real body in pleasure was so erotic that Gavin felt his balls tighten with no time to warn. He groaned Connor’s name and sank deep inside him, feeling himself pulse as he came harder than he ever had in his life.

He pulled out and they both tumbled onto the bed. When Gavin finally came anywhere near close to catching his breath, he turned to see Connor gazing over at him with a look of radiant joy on his face. “That was excellent,” Connor praised. “Even with the little blip at the beginning.”

“I… Thanks,” Gavin said, feeling pride swell in his chest.

They lay there, basking in the afterglow for a little while, until Connor reached over and took his hand. “You’re very good, you know. Clearly all those anonymous hookups were practice, just for me,” Connor teased.

“It sure does feel that way.” Gavin laughed. He became aware that his dick was still wet, and he was sure Connor was feeling messy as well. “You ready to get cleaned up?”

After another delightful shower with Connor, Gavin stripped his bed and replaced the sheets, just in case. “Come lay here with me. No, no. Stay naked,” Gavin said to Connor, who had moved to get his boxer briefs. “I wanna see that thing soft. It’s so good.”

“Yeah. I noticed you like it,” Connor teased. He lay on his side in Gavin’s bed, the crisp burgundy sheets rumpled around him, in delightful contrast to his pale skin and dark hair. His pubic area was hairless—a perk (or perhaps downside, depending on one’s point of view) of being an android. Gavin normally liked a little hair, but Connor’s smoothness was definitely sexy, and his soft cock and balls held Gavin’s attention. 

“Are you gonna stare at my dick all night, or are we gonna watch the Red Wings?” Connor interrupted.

Gavin laughed. “I can do both. _Fine,_ let’s go watch the game.” He got up and put on his boxers and grabbed one of the blankets from the bed to take with him into the living room. “It’s a little chilly in here anyway. Heat’s on, but it’s supposed to snow tonight.”

“Do I have permission to get dressed now, Gavin?” Connor stuck out his tongue.

“Only because it’s cold.” Gavin gave him a mock glare. 

Connor put his underwear back on, and as the two of them headed toward the living room, he went to look in his bag by the front door. Gavin panicked when he saw Connor digging around in it, until he pulled out a pair of pajama pants. “I’m staying over, right?”

“Damn right, you are.”

Connor grinned. “Good. Because I brought my pajamas.” He pulled an A-shirt out of his bag, the same one he took all those hot selfies in, and put it on. Oh, what a good day this was.

Gavin went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and some popcorn for himself, and they sat down on the couch. He gulped down half the water and ate half the bowl of popcorn before finally settling down next to Connor, laying his head on his shoulder and snuggling up close.

“You ate dinner, right?” Connor asked with concern.

“Of course. But after that workout?” Gavin laughed. “Next time I’ll make sure I have a better midnight snack. But this is fine.”

“Take care of yourself,” Connor chided. “I’m getting fond of you, dipshit.”

Gavin laughed, and at the same time felt tingles in his chest at the sound of Connor’s voice. He reached over and took Connor’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers. “I like you too, jerk.” He felt Connor tilt his head against Gavin’s, and they held each other close.

The Red Wings lost, but that was all right by Gavin. When the time came, he fell asleep in Connor’s arms.

On Tuesday, Gavin felt like a new man.

He woke up on top of the world, and this time, it felt like he’d actually stay there. Yeah, today was Day One of the post-investigation paperworkocalypse, but they’d get it done. Or he would. Fuck, if he got to sleep with Connor and go on diner dates and snuggle during hockey games, he’d do paperwork every day until he was dead in the ground.

Connor and Hank arrived, and Hank was smiling. Wow. Guess they’d all had a good weekend.

“Hey, you. Wanna help me out?” Gavin asked Connor once Hank had gone to the break room for coffee.

“Sure. What’s up?” Connor went over to Gavin’s desk, where he was filling in a form on his computer.

“Just need to figure out what to do about the android.” Gavin squinted at the form. “He’s still deactivated downstairs. What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one. Or a model number,” Connor said. “Just use his 11-digit serial number.” Connor rattled off a list of numbers.

“Got it. Listen…” He turned to look up at Connor. “Are you okay with all of this? I know you were a little mixed up about it all,” Gavin said quietly. He busied himself filling in other details on the page as Connor considered.

Then Connor sighed. “I mean, I have to be. This android committed a crime. Many crimes. I have evidence, and he will be tried and most likely convicted. I will insist that he be tried as a human, and even if we have to go all the way to the Supreme Court, I’m okay with that,” Connor said gravely. “But you’re right. This is my job. I… I accept that I feel emotions now. I wish this android had a different life. But I could say the same for human criminals. It is what it is.”

Gavin nodded. “It is, that.”

Gavin saved the page he was on, then locked his computer and grabbed the laptop. “Wanna go help me upstairs, with your big computer brain?”

“Certainly.”

They spent a while longer on paperwork, then when it came time for lunch, Connor got up.

“Gavin… thank you.”

“For what?” Gavin looked up at Connor.

“For taking this case seriously. Seeing it through to the end. It means the world to me and will save lives. If you need or want future help, you know I’m only a text away.” Connor looked around furtively, then stole a quick, chaste kiss from Gavin’s lips. “I gotta get lunch with Hank now, it’s our thing. Remember, any time you need help. I’ll be sure to send you dog photos when I go home tonight.”

“You better!” Gavin gave Connor a fist bump, and he departed.

Man. Connor was the best plastic prick of a partner Gavin could ask for. And for once, he was really and truly content: with life, with work, with everything.

He hummed to himself as he kept working. He’d do his very best, and he’d make Connor proud.

*** Epilogue *** 

Hank waited patiently for Connor to come down from the archives for lunch. He’d been doing paperwork with Reed all morning with zero drama, which could mean only one thing: they were fucking.

He smirked. Fuckin’ kids. They thought Hank didn’t know. Reed thought Hank hadn’t noticed the fact that his antagonism for Connor was so, so obviously a kindergarten crush. Connor thought Hank didn’t see through his extremely obvious android meetup lie. 

Normally, Hank would intervene, if he thought a workplace relationship would cause bullshit or a conflict of interest. But this? This _solved_ bullshit. Connor was happy and Reed was behaving, and thus, Hank saw no reason to upset the delicate balance of the new natural order of things.

And Reed and Connor didn’t need to know that Hank knew.

He’d keep their little secret.

“Lieutenant, I am ready for lunch,” Connor announced, and Hank grabbed his keys and locked his desk.

“Let’s go, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being with me on this journey. Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. I'm so glad that so many people have read and enjoyed this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it. <3 You guys rule!


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